The Beauty And The Beast
by TenshiXXX
Summary: Gaara is a cruel prince who was turned into a hideous monster by a sorcerer in repentenance for his sins. In order to break the spell, he must fall in love before the last petal of the magic rose falls or he will remain a beast forever... GaaNeji
1. Chapter 1

Cast

Belle: Neji

Beast: Gaara

Gaston: Orochimaru

Maurice: Hiashi (Very OOC, be warned)

Armoire the wardrobe: Temari

Cogsworth: Kankuro

Lumiere: Naruto

Mrs Potts: Gai Sensei

Chip: Rock Lee

Sasuke is in this story! Fear not, emo fans!

Chapter 1:

Neji heaved a sigh that ruffled his bangs and pretended not to notice the lecherous stares of that old pervert Orochimaru. He continued to read his book, concentrating on the story rather than the feeling of his skin trying to crawl away from that man. Any day now he expected a proposal, and he was currently trying to find a way to reject him without offending him. It was going to be hard; Orochimaru took offence to everything.

He was reading as he walked, as he usually did. He was on his way to the library to return several books he had already finished. He had only taken them out a few days ago, and the librarian Tsunade never tired of remarking that it wouldn't be long before he had read every book from the vast collection. She didn't understand his passion for reading, no one did. He didn't read to learn, he read because he enjoyed it. He relished turning the page to discover a new twist in the tale, or else attempting to unravel the mystery before the protaganist did. At this, he was rather good.

He stopped at the fountain and decided that it would be less time consuming if he finished his novel now and returned it to the library with the others. He was nearly finished, anyway, and the library didn't close for two hours. He had plenty of time.

Sitting himself down on cool marble, he dropped his satchel by his feet and continued reading. The fountain was playing gently in the background, relaxing him despite the inane chatter of the townsfolk walking past and the soft whinnying of the horses as they brought their respective carts to a halt.

He jumped when a hand landed on his shoulder and leapt up, nearly dropping his book in the water. His eyes narrowed. Everybody knew that he had a thing about personal space. The only one rude enough- and gutsy enough- to ignore this and actually touch him was...

"Orochimaru-san," Neji said coldly, trying to suppress his revulsion. Long greasy hair that likely hadn't been washed in a decade framed his sunken, snake-like face, his skin waxy and the colour of curdled milk. Most disturbing of all was the yellow eyes with their vertical pupils and the abnormally long tongue currently sneaking out to trace his thin lips.

"Neji-kun," Orochimaru said silkily. Neji had to force himself not to run away screaming "Rape!" The man was able to make you feel violated just by looking at you normally, never mind with the unwholesome greed in his eyes Neji felt every time they came into contact.

"How are you?" Neji asked politely, forcing himself to maintain civil conversation. He was disconcerted by the way that smile widened until it was distinctly predatorial. Instinctively, he took and involuntary step back. He was certain Orochimaru had noticed, but the man ignored it.

"Oh, I'm fine," was the reply, "Though I could be better,"

"Oh? How so?" Neji asked, raising an eyebrow. He felt a little brutal as thoughts of fatal illnesses and dancing on graves came to mind.

"You're not by my side," Orochimaru said, long white fingers reaching towards Neji, who felt as though somebody had just poured a bucket of ice into the pit of his stomach. This was it, he knew. The moment he had been dreading.

"Orochimaru-san-" Neji began in a warning tone, pausing when the man began to talk over the beginning of his protests.

"Please, call me Orochimaru," he said, waving his hand so that the rich purple sleeve of his expensive clothes flapped in the air. It was a strong contrast with the plain shirt and trousers Neji wore.

"I'm afraid that would be quite inappropriate, Orochimaru-san," Neji said, careful to keep the hostility out of his voice. He didn't want to risk offending a man with so much money, "I'm but the poor nephew of a tailor. I don't even have parents! Whereas you are of a high-class upbringing, and are rich and powerful. I will do as my position in society dictates and refer to you politely. You are my superior, after all,"

By the time Neji finished, he felt like scrubbing his mouth out with soap. Isn't that what you were supposed to do when you swore or told a lie? Though he hadn't technically lied, his sickly-sweet flattery of the man to protect his family from Orochimaru's brutality made it feel as though he was deceiving him somehow.

"Ah, but you won't be in a position beneath me if you accept my hand in marriage," he paused and smiled wider.

"Well, you will, but not in the sense we're referring to," he continued, laughing at his own crass comment. Neji felt his cheeks heat up in a combination of mortification and disgust.

"Orochimaru-san, I don't think that's entirely appropriate!" he said hotly. Orochimaru ignored his comment and reached out to touch Neji's face. He had not been expecting the sudden move, though he managed to slap the hand away as soon as his skin came into contact with Neji's face. It felt like a rotting corpse's, moist and cold and above all else filthy. Orochimaru's eyes flashed angrily and he leaned closer until they were nose to nose. Neji refused to be the one to back away.

"I don't think you understand-," he began, but Neji spoke over him.

"I understand perfectly, Orochimaru-san," he all but whispered, all illusions of politeness gone, "I refuse to become your little trophy. Even if I did marry you, our relationship would not be a monogamous one. You would continue to frequent those filthy brothels and you would hire me out to all your friends. I won't become another Kimimaro,"

Orochimaru's face became thunderous. He clenched his fists, looking as though he was about to punch Neji.

"Don't- talk- about- him!" the man spat, looking positively deranged in his fury.

"I warned him," Neji continued, "I warned him not to let your false words take hold. But he had been starved of affection for so long, and any attention was like a ray of sunshine on a stormy day to him. He gave you everything. His heart, his virginity, his loyalty. And he met his end at the hands of your friends, raped by ten man and mutilated. Left for dead in the gutter,"

Neji paused and swallowed, fighting to force away memories of the state his friend's body had been found in.

"Because he trusted you," Neji said acidly, resuming his monologue, "I refuse to make the same mistake,"

He glared into Orochimaru's eyes for as long as he could, trying to communicate his intense, burning, corrosive hatred for the other man through that one look.

"I will have you," Orochimaru hissed, sounding more like snake than ever. Neji half expected retractable fangs to sprout from his jaws. But they didn't, and the man whirled around in a flurry of purple and black velvet before stalking off into the crowd. They parted to let him though, muttering among themselves about the spectacle they had just witnessed and speculating what could have caused it.

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Neji had stood there for so long, silently seething, that the library had closed and it was getting dark by the time he came to his senses. Gloomily, he slung his sachel over his shoulder and made the long trek home, lamenting the fact that he now had no books to read tomorrow. He lived on the outskirts of a little town called Konohagakure in a small but cosy cottage with his uncle and cousins. His uncle was an inventor, though he wasn't a very good one. What he made usually didn't work, and those things that did work usually didn't have a function. Still, it kept his Uncle happy and it wasn't doing anyone any harm, so he didn't complain. It was just a hobby anyway, albeit one that took up more time that work did.

Hiashi was a tailor by trade, but an expensive one. Consequently, only the rich were able to afford his goods. In some ways, Neji resented the extravagant prices and his Uncle's unrivalled skill. Had Hiashi been less brilliant, perhaps Neji wouldn't have met Orochimaru when he came into the shop for some new shirts in the first place. But, in his heart, Neji knew that they would have met somehow anyway. His looks had earned him a fan club of sorts within the town, and everybody with sense knew that Orochimaru took a liking to pretty boys.

Neji frowned and pushed thoughts of Orochimaru out of his had for now. He was nearing the cottage, and the light was on. That meant that his Uncle was still awake. Probably tinkering around with some new invention, no doubt. He walked up the garden path and knocked on the door lightly. Hiashi opened the door enthusiastically, waxing eloquent out his latest project and how it just needed a bit of fine tuning. He was covered in oil, a spanner jammed behind an ear. He lead Neji into the kitchen, talking all the while, even as he served Neji's dinner. Neji had to eat by the stove because his Uncle's...thing was sitting in the middle of the table. Waving away Hiashi's apologies, Neji dunked his bread into his soup and began to eat while his Uncle went back to his latest invention.

"I just need to tighten this knut here and...But where's my spanner?" Hiashi said, sounding confused. He had just reached for the aforementioned tool, only to find it absent.

"Behind your ear," Neji said, "Where you always put it,"

Hiashi nodded and laughed.

"What would I do without you?" he said affectionately. Neji allowed a tiny smile to grace his face.

"I'm sure you'd do fine," he replied, watching as Hiashi tightened something with his tongue sticking out from between his teeth. His uncle grunted in response.

"Why haven't you returned those books?" he asked, wiping his brow with a greasy cloth. His forehead was now smeared with black, and it made for quite a funny sight. However, the reminder of his run-in with Orochimaru stopped him from expressing any amusement.

"I met Orochimaru," he said curtly, concentrating on his dinner. He felt his Uncle's concern and felt a little better, knowing that Hiashi would be there for him.

"What did he do?"

Neji refused to answer at first and caved only due to the pressuring nagging.

"In a sideways way, he asked me to marry him," Neji confessed eventually, pushing his half full bowl away. He didn't much feel like eating anymore, "He told me that he wanted me at his side. It somehow ended with an argument aver Kimimaro, and we created quiet a scene. Then, he said "I will have you" and walked off. He was rather angry," He finished worriedly. Hiashi looked worried for a moment too, then brightened up as he was wont to do.

"Don't allow him to bother you, Neji," he said sagely, returning to his invention, "I don't treat him with reverence and obedience, and I'm not dead yet,"

Despite Hiashi's assurances, Neji was not convinced and slept fitfully that night, his dreams full of Kimimaro's tortured body and Orochimaru's leering face.

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The next day dawned bright and cold. There was a light film of frost on every puddle and the grass crunched as Neji helped his Uncle haul the invention into the back of the cart. The horse was already saddled and pawed the ground impatiently, rearing to go. With one last grunt, Neji and his Uncle hauled the contraption into the back of the trailer. It made a rattling sound, and Neji glanced at it worriedly.

"Don't worry, it's nothing I won't be able to fix!" Hiashi said airily, clambering onto his horse as Neji strapped his invention to the cart. He didn't want it to fall out and break.

Hiashi was attending an invention competition in a nearby town called Iwagakure. Well, Neji classed it as nearby, at any rate, even if it did take a full day to get there on horse back. It was the closest town to Konohagakure, anyway. Neji had been there only once, and he hadn't liked it. There was no lush greenery or forests, not even a single blade of grass. Everything was composed of red rock, including the buildings. Worst of all, they didn't even have a public library. The officials maintained that this was due to a lack of funds, and most people couldn't read anyway, so what was the point? Neji had taken one look at their fine clothes and their expensive jewellery and knew instantly why the town lacked the funds to build one. He knew that these upper class people probably had private libraries of their own, and considered it a waste to spend money on books for these so-called dregs of society. He had felt like telling them that maybe if they invested in schools, people would be able to read and a library wouldn't have been a waste of time then.

Neji had attended school from the age of four until the age of sixteen. His school had been a grammar school, filled with rich kids. The only reason he was allowed in was because he had won a scholarship. It made his smirk to remember the way he had outshone all these know-it-alls at both academic and sport related activities, also stealing away the attention of the girls. The snobs had obviously thought that he would be dim-witted troll because of his Uncle's profession and the fact that Hiashi was considered something of and oddity around the town for his strange inventions. The rich boys, jealous and spitting in fury like rabid wolverines, had shunned him. Only one boy, in the year below him, had ignored the rest of his peers and became Neji's friend. Uchiha Sasuke knew what it was to be like to be hated for his image of perfection, and they had formed a close bond. Now nineteen and twenty, the two were inseparable.

Sasuke was going to be coming over while Hiashi was away. He was rebelling against his mother's wishes by remaining friends with somebody who was so "low class", aided and abetted by his older brother Itachi, who also abhorred his mother's shallow views. He hoped Sasuke would bring some new books around for them to read. He had intended to get some when he gone into town yesterday, but circumstances- or, rather, Orochimaru- had prevented that. He scowled darkly as thoughts of his tormenter came to mind.

With Hiashi saddled up and his lunch strapped firmly to back, he set off with a wave in the direction of his nephew and his daughters. Hinata waved solemnly, sad to see her father go. Hanabi waved enthusiactically, counting down the minutes until Sasuke would be here. Neji wasn't stupid, he knew she had a crush on him. He had warned her that nothing would come of it, but she had just accused him of being cynical. So he left her to it. She was strong, she would mend her heart in no time.

They re-entered their little cottage and Neji made their breakfast. After they had finished eating (Hanabi licking her plate, much to Neji's mingled exaperation and amusement), Neji left for his Uncle's shop. He specifically stated that Hinata was in charge until he returned at lunch time, and that the house had better not be demolished when he got back. The last part was directed towards Hanabi, who huffed. She soon brightened up when Neji reminded her that Sasuke would be coming home with him at lunch.

It took him barely fifteen minutes to get to his Uncle's shop and open up. The new breeches for Jiraiya-san were waiting on the counter for him to arrive and pick them up. Neji liked Jiraiya, despite the man's tendency to get slapped at least eight times a day by offended women. It was generally because they found him peaking up their skirts, or else caught him pinching their backsides. It made Jiraiya seem like he wasn't a very nice person, when in reality he was. He was sympathetic to Neji's plight with Orochimaru and often offered to "kicked his scawny ass". Though Neji found his language vulgar, he respected the sentiment.

The bell above the door rang and Neji looked up, expecting Jiraiya. The sight of Orochimaru standing there didn't exactly make his day. Neji composed his face into what he hoped was a neutral expression and faced Orochimaru. He would prove that he didn't fear the snake-like man.

"Good morning, Orochimaru-san," he said curteously, "How may I help you?"

He tried to ignore the way the man's expression turned from vague interest into outright hunger.

"I have come here for a fitting," he said, his eyes raking over Neji's body. Neji suddenly felt naked, even if he was clad for colder climates.

"Oh?" he asked, "I was under the impression that you had already had a fitting with my Uncle not long ago,"

"Yes, I did," Orochimaru replied, slowly, as though he was trying to divine a way out of that corner, "But I seem to have forgotten my measurements. If you would be so kind...?"

He gestured at the footstool positioned by the mirror where customers were usually measured, leaving the question hanging. Neji cursed inwardly and picked up his tape measure. He made his way over at a snail's pace, reluctant to come any closer to Orochimaru than neccesary.

With more force than was reasonable, he wrapped the tape measure around Orochimaru's chest and yanked it tight.

"Tell me if it becomes uncomfortable," he said, experiencing a savage burst of pleasure at the thought of hurting this man. He heard Orochimaru grunt in pain and loosened it a little.

"Oh, I apologise, Orochimaru-san," he said, sounding extremely contrite, even if he wasn't really, "There. Is that satisfactory?"

"Oh, yes," Orochimaru hissed in a way that made Neji want to hide behind the counter like a scared little girl. In seconds, Orochimaru whirled around and slammed Neji up against the wall, the mirror rattling dangerously. Neji couldn't prevent the gasp of shock leaving his mouth.

"What do you think you are-?"

"I told you," Orochimaru hissed, his lips inches from Neji's. He turned his head to the side to escape the man's rancid breath and creeping tongue, "I told you I would make you mine!"

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I hope it wasn't too bad. I came across Corvin's Cindersand a few days ago, and I started thinking about GaaNeji fairytales. I debated The Little Mermaid, but then The Beauty And The Beast came to mind and it just fit so well. Hence, I wrote this!

Gaara will probably be introduced soon, but for now I'm having fun letting Orochimaru harrass Neji.

Ja ne, all!

TenshiXXX


	2. Chapter 2

**Cast**

**Belle: Neji**

**Beast: Gaara**

**Gaston: Orochimaru**

**Maurice: Hiashi (Very OOC, be warned)**

**Armoire the wardrobe: Temari**

**Cogsworth: Kankuro**

**Lumiere: Naruto**

**Mrs Potts: Gai Sensei**

**Chip: Rock Lee**

**Sasuke is in this story! Fear not, emo fans!**

Chapter 2:

Neji tried not to panic as he was crushed against the wall mercilessly. He could feel Orochimaru exhaling against his neck as he spoke.

"Did you think you could escape that easily?" he said, and Neji imagined that Orochimaru was smirking at the way he cringed at the man's touch, his eyes tightly clenched as he tried to keep his mouth away from Orochimaru's slimy tongue. Neji's breathing sped up as he began to feel chlostrophobic, remembering the day his father had died, all the dust and smoke and pain and crushing roof beams falling down-

"NO!"

Neji opened his eyes and came face to face with a pair of livid yellow ones. He had reacted instinctively and shoved Orochimaru away, causing him to slam into the opposite wall. Once he had recovered from the shock, he had stalked over to Neji, his eyes demanding an explanation.

"If you hadn't assaulted me, then this wouldn't have happened," Neji said, panting hard. He couldn't believe that Orochimaru had actually tried that, despite Neji's continuous assertion that he wasn't interested. It made him seem even more cruel and formidable, a feat Neji had thought impossible after Kimimaro's gang rape and subsequent murder.

"I wouldn't have had to if you had simply listened to me in the first place," Orochimaru hissed.

"I already know what it is you have to say," Neji spat, his temper quickly rising. The nerve of this man, to suggest that Neji was being the unreasonable one!

"Oh?" Orochimaru asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes," Neji replied, his voice muffled by his gritted teeth. Angrily, he pushed Orochimaru away, watching with slight trepidation as the man's expression of slight annoyance morphed into outright fury.

"I don't think you realise who you're dealing with, Hyuuga Neji," Orochimaru spat, his yellow eyes narrowed to slits.

"Not "who"; "what"," Neji corrected, his expression one of hatred mixed with disgust, "You can no longer be considered be considered human. Therefore, you are a "what", you despicable-"

"Finish that sentence,_ my angel_, and your Uncle will suddenly find himself out of business," Orochimaru said, his lipless mouth curled into a malicious smile as the brunet stiffened and closed his mouth.

"You-," Neji began, his lip curling with aversion. He gasped with shock as Orochimaru's hand clamped over his mouth. He once again felt as though he was being touched by the recently dead. He shuddered with revulsion. Furiously, he pried the hand away.

"If you think that I'll just go along with whatever you say, you're wrong," he warned the snake-like man.

"Oh, I have no intention of doing that," Orochimaru assured him easily, "I want you to come to me of your own free will,"

Neji let a smirk of derision form on his normally impassive face.

"Because there is so much chance of that happening, isn't there?" he said sarcastically. He was perturbed by the way Orochimaru didn't seem at all fazed. The man uttered a soft laugh and ran a long finger down Neji cheek. Neji visibly winced at the deathly clamminess of the finger.

"You'd be surprised," he hissed, turning on tail with a flourish of black satin and leaving.

Neji stared into the mirror for what seemed like forever, feeling sick. He knew that he looked deathly pale and didn't even breathe a sigh of relief when the tinkling of the bell announced Orochimaru's departure. Why had he thought of that dreadful day? Sure, Orochimaru had encroached his personal space, but why had that forced him to relive that tragic event? Why was he thinking of rubble and dust and death when he was perfectly safe in this little shop? It was in the past, and he shouldn't have dwelt on it, lest it make him mad.

Collapsing onto the stool, he put his head between his legs to stop him from fainting as his father had taught him all those years ago. It worked, but the sickness intensified. But it wasn't so much the memories of his father's untimely demise that were causing him to want to be sick. Now that he had dragged his thoughts away from that, they turned unbidden to Orochimaru and his sick desires, to Kimimoro and his defiled body, an expression of heart-break still visible on his mud-sullied face...

Leaping to his feet, Neji raced into the back of the shop and yanked open the bathroom door. He barely managed to get his head over the toilet before he saw his breakfast again. Shakily, he stood up and made his way over to the mirror, wanting to look presentable when dealing with the customers. He didn't spend long, knowing very well that he shouldn't have tarried in the first place. Still, while he didn't look as though he had just puked up guts up mere moments ago, he didn't exactly look his usual impeccable self either. As Jiraiya was by no means a stupid man, he noticed instantly that something was up.

For one thing, Neji didn't even look up when the door opened, the bell tinkling softly. For another, his face was ashen pale.

"Hey, Neji," Jiraiya said, a great deal softer than he usually would have, "Is everything alright?"

Neji jumped as though stung and Jiraiya caught the frightened look of cornered prey before it was replaced with a smooth cold mask.

"Yes, I'm well, Jiraiya-san," Neji replied, bowing to the author, "Are you here for your order?"

"Yup," Jiraiya said, his wide grin back on his face, even though his eyes maintained a look of worry. He sniggered to himself when Neji handed his beautifully wrapped hose and tore it open without ceremony. He saw Neji raise an eyebrow but ignored it.

"The ladies will love me in these!" he grinned, a trickle of drool forming at the corner of his mouth at the thought of tanned legs and double-d breasts.

Neji nodded vacantly in response and Jiraiya's grin slid off his face.

"Ok, now I know something's up," he said, a rare expression of seriousness appearing on his face, "Spill, what's up, kid?"

Neji jumped, startled.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice slightly unsteady. Jiraiya rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, I know something's up," he said, "I'm not stupid,"

At Neji's disbelieving expression, he huffed and added, "I'm not!"

Neji ignored him and pulled a beautiful cream and gold silk doublet, placing it on top of a fine sheet of paper.

"Generally, when someone asks you a question, they want an answer," Jiraiya pointed out. He noticed the way Neji's hands were shaking and understood the reason instantly. There was only one person who could cause Neji to react like this.

"Had another run-in with old snake face, huh?" he asked, his face darkening at the way Neji tensed in response. So he had been right.

"What did he do?"

When Neji didn't answer and instead secured the package with a bow, Jiraiya frowned and stalked forward, lifting Neji's face with a finger on his chin.

"Answer me. I'm not asking for my health, you know,"

Despite his disinterested tone, his face was the epitome of concerned. He remembered the day that poor kid Kimimoro had been found in the gutter. Every clue had pointed back to Orochimaru, but he had escaped a sentence on the grounds of self defence. Jiraiya was certain that gold had changed hands, yet he was unable to prove it. It rankled that _he _knew that snake-face was guilty, _snake-face_ knew he was guilty and everybody _else _knew he was guilty too, but there was no proof and everybody was too afraid to speak up. Though Neji didn't know it, Jiraiya was currently doing all that he could to bring Orochimaru down, not only because of a personal score, but because the thought of finding Neji's raped and tortured body face down in sludge hung over him like a dark cloud. But he couldn't protect Neji from that..._thing_ if Neji wasn't willing to confide in him.

"Neji," he muttered softly. He watched Neji's pale throat ripple as he swallowed and opened his mouth to speak.

"Yes, he...was here," he said, his voice coming out croakier than he would have liked.

"And?" Jiraiya asked, gesturing for him to elaborate, "What did he do?"

"He told me that he needed me to take his measurements because he had forgotten them," Neji began slowly, choosing his words with care, "I'm...ashamed to say that I wasn't very gentle with the tape measure,"

Jiraiya chuckled at that and motioned for him to continue.

"I loosened it, trying to appear innocent, and he...,"

"Jumped you?" Jiraiya said, his bushy white brows furrowing as he frowned with anger at Neji's nod.

"He slammed me up against the wall and I panicked. I threw him across the room in reflex and he hit the the wall rather hard," He couldn't prevent himself from smirking slightly at the memory. Jiraiya couldn't keep an amused grin off his face either.

"He was...very angry. We argued for a while, and then he told me that I don't know who I'm dealing with," Neji continued, "My response was quite rude. I was going to call him a despicable bastard, but he interrupted me and threatened Hiashi-jii-san's business. I told him that I won't go along with whatever he says, and he replied that he wants me to come to him freely. Then...he left,"

By the time he was finished, Jiraiya was making a perculiar spluttering sound. Assuming that he was choking, Neji rushed over to help, only to discover that the strange sound was Jiraiya attempting to muffle his unusual laughter. As soon as he realised that Neji knew he was laughing, he decided that there was no point in keeping it contained and let out his trademark raucous bark. The affronted look on Neji's face did nothing other than make him laugh harder. He couldn't help it. Orochimaru had just been rejected, and, to add an insult to injury, it hadn't been kind. He couldn't wait to tell the townsfolk.

"Sorry, sorry," he said in response to Neji's annoyed glare, "It's just...I can't wait till everyone finds out!"

Neji's expression morphed into troubled confusion at this as he contemplated the ramifications of his actions.

"Maybe he'll finally realised that I don't appreciate his advances," he said slowly, more to himself than to Orochimaru, "However, there is more of a chance that he'll see this as an insult to his pride. Coupled with the fact that everybody will know that he was unable to convince me to marry him, and he will probably become more persistent, if anything,"

Jiraiya's bushy white eyebrows furrowed at this and he stopped laughing.

"Is that even possible?" he asked dryly. Neji sent him a look, and he nodded.

"Right, what was I thinking?" Jiraiya replied, running his hand over his face, "It's Orochimaru. Of course that's possible,"

"Before," Neji began, "It was merely a matter of him finding an attractive spouse,"

He stopped talking for a moment and pulled a half finished doublet, some silver thread and a fine bone needle from underneath the counter. Speedily, he began to embroider the doublet with an image of twisting vines. He would probably be unable to sell it, though; black and silver weren't the fashionable colours. But Neji never was one to follow fashions.

"It is now a matter of pride," he continued, the design already beginning to take shape, "People will begin to think that he's weak if word of his rejection at my hand gets out. Of course, it hasn't yet, but that won't deter him,"

Jiraiya watched, fascinated in spite of himself, as a fine intricate design began to take shape at an astounding speed. Even if he worked as slowly as possible, he would never be able to produce such a beautiful item of clothing. He knew that Neji was good, judging by Hiashi's bragging, but now he had seen it with his own eyes...

"Just the thought of somebody getting the better of him is enough for him to return time and time again to get what he wants, even if the other townsfolk don't know what happened," Jiraiya sighed, pulling himself out of the needle-induced trance.

At a sharp cracking noise, he looked around, an eyebrow raised. Neji had snapped his needle clean in half, he was clenching his fist around it so hard. Jiraiya glanced at his face worriedly, but it was as guarded as ever, giving him no insight into what Neji may be thinking.

"What did he mean when he said that he wants me willing?" Neji asked in a low controlled voice. Jiraiya's face twisted with pity. He knew whenever somebody spoke like that, it was generally because they were anything _but_, "Surely he doesn't believe that I'll one day wake up and decide that I want to be his latest personal prostitute?"

"Well, what can I say?" Jiraiya said wryly with a shrug, "He's one messed up little freak,"

Neji's eyes snapped to his in shock.

"You...You think he does?" Neji asked, his voice betraying his stunned disbelief. Jiraiya nodded. He wanted to comfort Neji, but he wasn't going to sugar-coat his words and soften his blows. That wouldn't help the kid at all.

"I'm not certain, but I understand how Orochimaru's mind works,"

Instead of reacting in the way Jiraiya would have had he been forced into this situation (i.e. throwing a terrific tantrum and hurling things around the room), Neji extrapolated another needle from the clutter under the counter and continued to sew the elaborate pattern onto the doublet. He supposed that this was Neji's way of dealing with his anger and fear, to bottle it all up.

The tinkling of the bell broke them out of their respective reveries and they looked up simultaneously. The tense line of Neji's shoulders softened a bit when his best friend entered.

"I came to make sure we were still on for lunch today," Sasuke said, pulling his hood down to reveal a handsome face framed by electric black bangs. His perceptive black eyes immediately saw that something was wrong, and they narrowed as he gazed worriedly at his friend.

"What's-" he began, stopping with a furious look on his face as Jiraiya mouthed _"Orochimaru,"_ to him.

"Of course," he spat, his infamous temper beginning to get the better of him, "Who else?"

"Sasuke," Neji said warningly. The Uchiha shrugged noncommittally.

"He can't do anything to me," he replied cockily, "Even if my Father let him off, Itachi would turn chop him up and cook him in pies,"

Neji smiled a little at that. Uchiha Itachi was Sasuke's older brother by six years, and he acted as though he was _Neji's _older brother too. Itachi had told Neji that he reminded the older Uchiha of himself when he was younger, and, while Neji had been flattered, he found it hard to believe. Itachi was a Scientific genius, having won many prizes for his achievements in the fields of Medicine and Neuroscience, and he was just past his twenty fifth birthday. How could the lowly son of a tailor such as himself ever hope to accomplish what Itachi had?

Still, while Itachi was a respectable member of society, his over-protectiveness, coupled with his extensive knowledge of the human body, led Neji to believe that, yes, there was a fair chance that Itachi would do this to Orochimaru.

"And what would he do with those pies?" Neji asked, his mood already improving.

"Sell them to all Orochimaru's henchmen, of course," Sasuke replied, savage glee shining in his onyx eyes, "They'd be eating their own boss without knowing it, and destroying the evidence, _and _we'd make a profit from it. That's the beauty of it,"

Neji raised an eyebrow and continued to stitch the doublet. It was nearly finished now.

"Sasuke," he said, "Sometimes I worry for your mental state. I can't believe you came up with such a psychotic plan,"

Sasuke smirked and folded his arms, leaning against the counter as he watched Neji work.

"I didn't," he said, "That's just what Itachi told me he plans on doing if Snake-Face ever lays a finger on you again,"

"Tell your brother that I'd be happy to assist him," Jiraiya put in. Though he was grinning, there was a seriousness in his eyes.

"Hn," Sasuke said, "I think you'd have to get in line. There are too many people that want to murder him,"

Much to the carefully guarded amusement of the younger men, Jiraiya huffed and folded his arms petulantly.

"Aww," he whined. Neji shook his head at Jiraiya's antics, waving the cheery man goodbye as he exited, complimenting Neji's workmanship all the while. Neji couldn't possibly comprehend how somebody could be so cheery all the time. Though he was feeling a little less upset, he was still mostly gloomy. He supposed the man was just feeling secure in the knowledge that Itachi was out for Orochimaru's blood too, and wouldn't let anyone else fall prey to the snake-like man.

There was a good minute of silence after Jiraiya had left. Neji knew that Sasuke would want to know what had transpired, but the man's temper was legendary. He was almost certain that the younger Uchiha would rush up to Orochimaru's manor house and threaten him. More than likely with a weapon of some sort, aswell. Neji covertly eyed the katana securely strapped to his friends back, and began to debate a way to get that thing away from Sasuke _before _he committed first degree murder with it. And in a very bloody manner, too, as was his style.

"Neji,"

He was broken out of his thoughts by the stern voice of his closest friend. Heaving a sigh, he finished the last stitch on the doublet and held it up for inspection. He nodded, satisfied with the perfect item of clothing he had just produced, and held it out to Sasuke. The younger Uchiha brother frowned.

"Take it, it's yours," Neji said, shaking it. The look on Sasuke's face was the closest expression to surprise Neji had ever seen on it.

"I can't," he said, "Not unless I pay for-"

Neji cut him off with a glare that could freeze the sun.

"It's a gift," he said sharply, "People don't _pay _for gifts, because that stops them from _being _gifts. Therefore, Sasuke, you will take this from me, _as a gift_, and you will not try to pay for it,"

By the time he was finished, a faint smirk of amusement hung around his friend's lips. Rolling his eyes in a very un-Uchiha like gesture, Sasuke took the item from him and began to inspect it reverently. Despite his obvious satisfaction with the doublet, he couldn't resist making a sarcastic comment.

"Just checking that this workmanship is up to standard," he said in the most snobbish voice he could manage. Neji retaliated by throwing the roll of silver thread at his head, inwardly cheering as he got a direct hit, right in the middle of Sasuke's forehead. Outwardly, though, he just smirked.

Rubbing his forehead, Sasuke glared half-heartedly before getting back to more pressing matters. Namely interrogating Neji about this Orochimaru business.

"Don't think by giving me this you'll get out of talking to me about it," he warned softly, noticing the tell-tale tension that entered Neji's posture again. Neji scowled at him.

"I don't want you losing your temper," he said, "I can take care of myself. I'm not a scared woman who needs to be protected,"

"Physically, I have no doubt you can," Sasuke said, though he was privately doubting that a little, "But Orochimaru has money and influence. Which is why you need my help,"

Neji sighed, knowing it to be true. In this world, money talked. And as Orochimaru had a lot of money and Neji had much less, though he was living quite comfortably, Orochimaru was the one who would come out victorious if it came down to a quarrel between them. However, with the infamous Uchiha brothers on his side, Orochimaru would know that there was next to no chance of him succeeding. Not only did the Uchihas made him look like a pauper, but they also had the charisma.

"Perhaps," he admitted, "But you know how bad your temper is, Sasuke. Do you remember the last time?"

"Itachi patched him up fine afterwards!" Sasuke said indignantly, trying to justify his actions. Neji smiled a bit.

"He had fourteen fractured bones, including his clavicle, sternum, mandible and scapula," Neji reeled off, "And his coccyx. How did you manage that, by the way?"

Sasuke shrugged.

"I don't know, but he couldn't sit down for weeks, so it's fine by me," he said offhandedly. Neji shook his head at his friend and retrieved the silver thread from where it had fallen.

"Sasuke, this is no laughing matter," he said curtly, "Now, I want you to make a promise that you will not seek out Orochimaru and exact your special type of revenge upon him,"

Sasuke grumbled incoherently in response, looking extremely put out at being manoeuvred into a corner. He could have easily refused, but that would mean dealing with Neji's nagging until he _did _agree. And, damn, he could nag like a woman when he wanted to.

"Sasuke," Neji said warningly. The younger grumbled.

"Fine," he spat savagely, as though it was taking him a great deal of effort to compose this sentence, "_I promise_. But if he hurts you, I'll paint the town with his blood,"

"I don't doubt it," Neji responded, winding the last of the thread back into a ball, "Hence the reason I wanted you to make that promise,"

Sasuke remained stubbornly silent, and Neji was sure that, had he been any less adept at hiding his emotions, he would have been pouting irritably. As he calmed down, he began to trace his fingers over the pattern on the doublet unconsciously. It really was beautiful.

"Why haven't you opened your own shop yet?" Sasuke asked curiously, "I know you sell your Uncle's wares, but you won't sell your own, save a the few you have to make when your uncle is away,"

Neji looked up from the case he was currently putting his needles into and sighed.

"I don't want to," he said shortly. Sasuke frowned at this. He had always believed that, if you had a talent, you should put it to some use. Itachi had been a Scientific genius, so he had gotten a career in that. Sasuke was excellent at arguing, so had become a barrister. Even his father, who had been good at anything related to economy, had set up a shipping company and had ended up becoming one of the richest men in the world, passing on the money and the business to his sons before he had died. It was blatantly clear that Neji was an incredible tailor, yet he refused to go into business. _Why?_

"But you're so good at it," he said, earning a small smile from his friend.

"Yes, but it's not what I love doing the most," Neji said, "I get satisfaction from making clothes that my customers find pleasing, yet the act is something I don't enjoy. What would be the point? I want to earn a living doing something I love as opposed to something I don't, even the wage is meagre by comparison,"

"And what _do _you love?" Sasuke asked, not expecting Neji to be able to answer. Therefore, he was shocked when Neji confessed what he wanted to do.

"I'd rather become an author," he said, neatly sliding the case of needles under the counter.

"An author?" Sasuke asked, somewhat surprised. He had known of his friend's passion for reading books, but he hadn't thought that he might want to _write_ one someday. Come to think of it, Neji had always been more dedicated to his writing than, say Maths or Science, back at school, and every story had had written was impressive.

"Makes sense," he mused.

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Hiashi knew that he had taken a wrong turning somewhere. Night was falling, the sky turning the purple-grey colour of Winter dusk, and Iwagakure was no where in sight, even though he should have arrived by now. Left or right; no matter what direction he looked in, the view was always the same: bare black trees with icicles dangling from the branches like fingers, some still sporting a few dead leaves. The way the boughs were spread out in front of him, almost as if they were warding him back, made him uneasy. Uneasiness which was shared by his horse, if the restless shifting and snorting of the beast was anything to go by.

A brisk wind began to pick up, throwing the remnants of Autumn's leaves off the trees and into the air in a flurry. Shivering, he pulled his cloak tighter around him, wishing more than ever that he'd taken Neji's advice and packed a map before he had set out. As always, his nephew had been right. Hiashi was going to have to start listening to him in the future.

It began to snow. Hiashi grumbled and pulled his hood up, hating the cold and the ice and everything else about Winter. He had never understood why Neji loved it so much. He used to scold his nephew for going out into the snow dressed only in a shirt and trousers when he was very young. And, although Neji didn't know it, Hiashi knew that he still sometimes went out into the snow when he thought that everybody was out or, occasionally, in bed. Dressed all in white, his long dark hair flying out behind him from the wind as he stood in ankle-deep drifts, Neji looked the epitome of the personification of Winter. If Hiashi had been able to draw, he would have sketched the breath-taking view, knowing that it would have sold for a lot of money.

He wished Neji was with him now. He had often told Hiashi that he would forget his head if it wasn't screwed on. At the time, Hiashi had asserted that that was not the case, even refusing to take a map with him, since he was certain of the way. Now he was realising how foolhardy that was of him.

He had to face it. He was well and truly lost. There was no one around for miles, and the only sounds above the hiss of falling snow as the soft "oo-hu" of an owl and the distant howl of wolves. Tightening his hands on the reins, Hiashi decided to keep moving. It would be better for him to keep moving, or he could fall prey to those wolves. At a gentle snap of the reins, the horse began to move faster, eyes darting nervously from side to side. Hiashi couldn't help but imitate it.

There was no warning before the wolf hurtled out of the darkness, its maw open in a dreadful snarl as it bared its slimy yellow teeth. Hiashi let out a cry of alarm, but it went unheard over the deafening screech of his horse as it reared up instinctively. It was all Hiashi could do to keep a tight hold and not fall off.

The wolf raced towards the frightened animal and clamped its teeth down on the beast's back leg. If possible, the horse's panic intensified as it began to buck and thrash, trying to dislodge the wolf from its ankle. Hiash could see its brethren emerging from the trees as soundlessly as smoke before pouncing on the unsuspecting horse. Unable to hold on any longer, the man fell with a muffled thud into the thick blanket of snow. He rolled onto his front and got to his knees, thinking that he could escape while the wolves were distracted. He was loathe to leave his horse behind, but he could find no alternative. Neji, Hinata and Hanabi needed him to survive. Otherwise he wouldn't have let the thought cross his mind.

A low ominous growl directly in front of his face made him look up, his eyes wide and round. There in front of him, it's scarred muzzle contorted by a rumbling snarl, was the biggest and meanest looking wolf of the lot. It had to be the pack leader. There was a moment of silence before Hiashi yelled, terrified, and leapt over his thrashing horse in a way that would have injured him had he been any less desperate. Fear was pumping adrenaline through his veins, and he dropped and rolled, springing back up again, then continued to run in a way that was astounding for a man of his age.

Tripping, he ended up sprawled on the floor, gashing his head against a tree root. There was no time for the pain. He had to keep moving.

He could hear them gaining on him. He had almost given up hope before he caught sight of magnificent iron gates not twenty paces in front of him. Putting on a new burst of speed, he pelted towards them, praying that they were open as the wolves snapped at his heels.

Wrapping numb hands around the frozen metal, he pushed with all his might, his thoughts becoming near hysterical as it didn't open first time. His desperation gave him strength, and he shoved harder, feeling his back click, until it swung open with a harsh squeal of rusty metal.

He was just in time. As the slammed the gate closed with a deafening crash, the largest wolf rammed its nose against the metal in a futile bid to get through. Hiashi noted dimly that there was an image of a strange symbol on both sides as he slumped against the snowy ground. His eyes were beginning to drift close. They flickered open one last time before darkness claimed him, taking the vision of a strange yellow-orange light directly above his chest.

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I'm no sorry I've taken so long with updates. I hope you'll all find it in your hearts to review!

Thanks to all those lovely people who bothered to press that little button. As you must know, reviews make a happy author, and happy authors mean more updates!

Ja ne, all!

TenshiXXX


	3. Chapter 3

**Cast**

**Belle: Neji**

**Beast: Gaara**

**Gaston: Orochimaru**

**Maurice: Hiashi (Very OOC, be warned)**

**Armoire the wardrobe: Temari**

**Cogsworth: Kankuro**

**Lumiere: Naruto**

**Mrs Potts: Gai Sensei**

**Chip: Rock Lee**

**Maid: Sakura**

**Footstool: Ino**

**Sasuke is in this story! Fear not, emo fans! **

**There are cameras in this story, but not cars, televisions or anything else more technical than clean running water and toilets.**

Chapter 3:

Naruto frowned with worry at the prone figure as he sat on the man's chest. He was breathing, though, so it shouldn't be too serious. But that gash to his head looked nasty.

"Oi, Kankuro!" he hollered, "He's alive!" The small clock walked up to him on spindly wooden legs, his painted face set in a snarl.

"Dammit, Naruto!" he snapped, "How thick are you? Don't you realise that Gaara will murder us if we bring him inside?"

"Watch it!" Naruto snapped, waving a golden burning arm in Kankuro's face to illustrate his point, "I'll handle Gaara. You don't need to worry about it. Now shut the fuck up and help my bring him inside before I set your wooden ass on fire!"

Kankuro hesitated for a moment, but Naruto's waxy face was set in a resolved snarl.

"Fine," he said, getting into place by the man's armpit, "On three we'll push,"

Naruto nodded, a bright grin already back on his face. As they were barely knee high to the average man, they couldn't have possibly lifted him. And while they were sure Gai and Lee would have attempted it if they asked, they knew that it was an impossible feat for a tea pot and cup and the poor man would probably end up more injured than before. Therefore, they had to push. The snow should ensure that he man wasn't hurt in any way.

They set off, grunting and heaving and, in Kankuro's case, whinging, as they shoved the unconscious man towards the stone steps of the castle, forming a deep trench in the cold snow. By the time they had reached the steps, the candlestick and the clock were puffing and panting, and Hiashi showed no signs of waking up.

"We can't drag him along _that_," Naruto said, indicating the uneven grey stones that made up the entrance of the castle, the only respite being the skin of a whole tiger which had been made into a throw rug. Kankuro glared.

"Then what do you suggest?" he demanded angrily. Naruto responded by coming closer so that his burning head was inches from the clock's wooden one.

"Shut up, asswipe!" he growled, "Instead of complaining all the time, help me come up with a solution!"

As he spoke, he drew nearer Kankuro, who leaned backwards lest he catch fire. As clocks were not very flexible, he didn't get far and ended up landing flat on his back.

"Dammit!" he spat again, ignoring the way the candlestick sniggered in response, "A little help here!"

Unfortunately, he completely forgot the fact that Naruto's flaming arm was not a good combination with his wooden one. Naruto righted him, and both sniffed suspiciously.

"What's burning?" Kankuro asked, looking around and missing the look of horror on Naruto's face. Let it never be said that Kankuro was perceptive.

"You are!" Naruto spat frantically, gesturing at his arm. Kankuro, however, got the completely wrong end of the stick.

"Well, I have been told," he said, wiggling his eyebrows. Naruto shook his head.

"No, I mean _you're burning_!"

Finally, Kankuro realised that his arm was actually on fire and let out a spectacular scream that would have made a woman proud. In a frenzy, he ran around shrieking for a moment before remembering his old lessons, and dropping to the ground to roll in the snow. When the fire was put out, he heaved himself up on his undamaged arm, glaring furiously at Naruto.

"Hehe," the Candlestick said sheepishly, "Oops,"

"You fucking-"

"What's going on here?" Sakura said, entering the room. The feather duster took in the sight of Kankuro with his fist pulled back, one charred wooden hand clamped around the candlestick's throat.

"Naruto, what have you done this time?" she sighed, rolling her eyes.

"I didn't do anything, Sakura-chan!" Naruto said, his face the model of innocence. The pink feather duster wasn't fooled.

"He set me on fucking _fire_!" Kankuro spat at Sakura.

"Naruto," she said warningly, advancing on him menacingly. The candlestick cowered, backing away rapidly.

"To be fair, Sakura-chan, I was only helping him up!" Naruto said meekly. But it was futile. He winced and whined as the duster began to whack him around the face with her feathered bottom, careful to avoid the flames. Kankuro watched and sniggered.

When she was finished, Naruto explained the situation to her. She immediately said that it would be a good idea to splash some cold water on the man's face, and Kankuro happily trotted off the get some while Naruto told Sakura that there was no way that he was going near it.

In no time, Kankuro was back, shoving a bucket along, water sloshing over the floor every now and again. It was a struggle, but they managed to upturn it onto the man's face. After a moment of coughing and spluttering, he blinked a few times and sat up with a start.

"Who-" he asked, casting around nervously. He was looking straight ahead, expecting a full sized human being. Naruto grinned.

"Down heeere," he said in a sing song voice. The man frowned and looked down, his expression morphing into one appropriate of somebody about to get ran over by stampeding oxen. Yelping spectacularly, he scooted backwards until his back was flush against the wall, panting with terror. The look on his face was so comical that Naruto began to laugh, stopping only when he received a painful smack from the duster's feather bottom again.

"Sorry about him," Sakura tittered awkwardly, "We usually keep him on a leash, but somehow he escaped!"

The man didn't answer and uncomfortable silence ensued.

"What's your name?" she said, attempting to make light conversation. The man swallowed.

"Hyuuga Hiashi," he croaked, looking down at them with awe on his face now that his fear had lessened due to the fact that the servants didn't appear to mean him harm.

"Well, I'm Haruno Sakura, and I'm the maid," she said proudly, "This is Uzumaki Naruto, he's the maître d'. And this is Kankuro, he's the Prince's Brother,"

Hiashi nodded numbly, then proceeded to rub his eyes. They could tell that he was shocked, and, while Naruto wasn't too bothered about his discomfort and found it quite amusing, the others didn't see the funny side of it.

"You must be quite shocked," Sakura continued, her voice sounding loud in the strained silence of the room. She nudged Kankuro forcefully, earning a yelp of pain.

"Say something!" she said out of the corner of her mouth, he teeth gritted. Clearing his throat, Kankuro nodded.

"Hi," he said weakly while the Candlestick sniggered and the Duster rolled her eyes.

"Oh, forget it!" she snapped. Ever the perfect maid, she smiled courteously at him and bowed as well as her inflexible body would allow. "Can I get you some tea, Hyuuga-san?" she asked.

He nodded mutely and the duster led him along a hall and into a cosy sitting room, a roaring fire burning in the hearth. To somebody who had been out in the cold since dawn, it was like sinking into a hot bath after a hard day's work. Putting his feet up on a footstool, Hiashi was surprised when it began to talk to him.

"Hi!" she said, "I'm Yamanaka Ino!"

Hiashi greeted her in kind, trying to ignore the angry glares passing between the duster and the footstool over who knew what.

"GAI! LEE!" the duster bellowed, despite her small size nearly deafening Hiashi. They only had to wait for a moment before a hideous green and orange tea pot and an equally horrendously coloured cup came careening in at top speed, nearly colliding with the wall.

"What service do you require, my youthful companion!" the tea pot boomed, standing to attention, his teeth glinting as he smiled.

"This is Hyuuga Hiashi, and he's our guest," Sakura told him, "Would you please get him some tea?"

"Yes! And it will be the best tea he has ever tasted or I will bounce around the kitchen on my lid five hundred times!" the exuberant teapot proclaimed as the little teacup by his side "oo-ed" and "ah-ed" at this strange declaration. With that, he skidded off, the teacup not far behind while Hiashi gaped with wonder.

"Yes, they're strange, but you learn to love them," Sakura laughed. Naruto snorted as Kankuro sent her a disbelieving look while they waited for Gai to return with the tea. In next to no time, the teapot was back and Hiashi was, uncomfortably, drinking from Lee. It was disconcerting to think that he was sipping tea from an inanimate object that wasn't so inanimate and was capable of thinking and speaking.

He was just getting cosy when a there was the noise of something slamming, accompanied by the sound of heavy footsteps. To his trepidation, Kankuro and Sakura immediately assumed terrified expressions, while Naruto glared at the door. Lee jumped out of Hiashi's hand and joined Gai in the shadow of the armchair while Ino scooted backwards with a whimper.

Hiashi knew, from the reactions of the servants, that he should be scared. And scared he was. His hands were shaking, his eyes wide and fearful, as he stared at the door where a hulking shadow loomed.

"What's going on?" it asked in a low rumbling growl, and Hiashi knew that he was in the presence of somebody ruthless and powerful. Luckily, it appeared that he hadn't noticed the cringing tailor yet.

"Gaara!" Kankuro said in an overly cheerful voice, "What are you doing down here? I thought you were sleeping!"

"You didn't answer my question," came the blunt reply as he came out into the light.

What little composure Hiashi had left evaporated and he leapt up with a cry of alarm, drawing attention to himself. Gaara was over six feet tall, a giant in comparison to Hiashi's 5,9", but that wasn't what had terrified him. This man was, quite literally, a monster. His body was bulbous and the colour of sand. His limbs were as thick as tree trunks, yet they still looked odd supporting his grotesquely disproportioned body. His head was tiny in comparison and set on large sloping shoulders, his ears almost as big. Sunken yellow and black eyes glared out from beneath a mop of crimson hair, and the swift movement of turning his head revealed the same unusual symbol tattooed onto the left side of his forehead as was on the wrought gates.

"Who are you?" he asked menacingly. Hiashi gulped but hastened to answer.

"Hy-Hyuuga Hiashi," he stammered at the beast, backing away rapidly even as the man advanced.

"And I'm Gaara, but that still doesn't explain what you're doing in my house!" the beast roared, suddenly pouncing. Hiashi whimpered pathetically as he was hoisted up by his hood so that his eyes were level with this furious demon's. The churning hatred in his eyes was so corrosive that Hiashi closed his eyes to avoid looking into them, lest he get burned by the intensity of that gaze.

"Gaara!" Naruto spat, futilely hitting the monster on one thickset leg with a stubby arm, "Let him down! He hasn't done anything to you, you bastard!"

Gaara turned his attention to the candlestick, who held his ground. Hiashi was impressed by his bravery in the face of somebody so terrifying.

"He's trespassing in my home," Gaara rumbled, "Therefore, he has done something to me. Now shut up!"

"No!" Naruto snapped back, ignoring Sakura's fearful gasp, "Let him down! You're choking him!"

Sure enough, Hiashi was turning a little blue. Cruelly, Gaara dropped him and he fell to the ground with a crash and a pained groan.

"Who saw fit to let him in?" Gaara snapped, his voice making it sound more like an interrogation than a question. Disregarding Sakura's and Kankuro's frantic gestures, Naruto puffed out his chest.

"I did!" he yelled, "And I don't care what you say, I'm not letting you hurt him!"

Gaara threw back his head and let out a gravely, demented laugh.

"When I could snap you in half with no effort?" he asked, "You'd never succeed!"

Naruto opened his mouth to retort but Gaara beat him to it.

"I'm not going to kill him," he said, and Naruto let out a sigh of relief.

"Oh, good!" he said.

"I'm just going to imprison him indefinitely," Gaara continued briskly.

"Oh, I guess that's- WHAT?!" Naruto said, his expression morphing into one of shock as it dawned on him. Hiashi whimpered at the thought of never seeing Hinata Hanabi and Neji again and looked for an opening through which to escape. Unfortunately, the only door in the room was behind Gaara, and the only way to get to it would be to somehow dodge the beast or slide between his legs. Both had slim chances of success. The window, though directly behind him, was plain glass without any way of opening it. He wouldn't have enough time to find something to smash it _and _get through before the beast was upon him. To put it plainly, he was stuck.

"You can't do that!" Naruto said angrily, his voice tinged with outrage, "Even if you don't care about this man, you must care that he could have children that need him!"

Gaara rolled his eyes flippantly.

"Probably not," he said, "He looks too old for children,"

Hiashi bristled indignantly at the beast's side ways dig at his greying hair, much to Gaara's amusement.

"Well?" Gaara asked, snorting when the man began to tremble again, "Do you have children?"

Hiashi was barely able to stammer out a yes. Naruto sent Gaara a triumphant look.

"How old are they?" the beast asked, "I'll judge whether they need you or not,"

"You probably class that as three or below!" Naruto grumbled under his breath. Gaara silenced him with a glare.

"Well?" he repeated impatiently.

"T-Twenty, nineteen and fourteen," Hiashi stammered out truthfully.

Gaara shrugged his massive shoulders coldly, and Hiashi felt his heart sink.

"I'm sure the eldest can look after them," he said pitilessly. In a fit of desperation, Hiashi finally found his voice.

"Why do you want to imprison me?" he asked, "I'm of no use to you!"

Hiashi could have sworn that the brief expression crossing Gaara's face was one of sadness before it flickered into impassive interest.

"You've seen me now," he explained, "I can't allow you to go back and tell everyone what I am,"

Hiashi swallowed.

"What if I promised to never tell anyone?" he tried desperately.

"Promises can be broken," was the frosty reply, "So I don't trust people to keep them,"

With that, he lifted Hiashi easily off the ground and carried him out of the room, kicking and screaming furiously in despair. But it was useless. He soon found himself chained in a small cell with only a hole in the ground for a toilet and a straw mattress in the middle of the room as he watched the broad silhouette of the beast retreating.

Neither of them had noticed when Hiashi's only photograph of his family slipped out of his pocket. But Naruto and the other servants did. Waiting until it had landed, they curiously surrounded the picture, Naruto being careful not to set it alight.

Hiashi was positioned in the middle, circled by what looked to be the children he had told Gaara about. To his right was the youngest who looked about thirteen or fourteen. Her face was set in a cheeky grin as she wrapped her arms around Hiashi, her dark brown hair covering some of her face. Peeking out from between her bangs was a pair of eyes that were the exact same distinctive pearlescent colour Hiashi's were. On the other side was a young woman who looked to be about eighteen or nineteen. Her blueish hair and voluptuous curves made her attractive in an unconventional way, and there was a distinct shyness about her tentative smile and fidgeting hands. Her eyes were also the exact same shade as Hiashi's. But what caught the servants' eyes the most was the figure standing behind the seated Hiashi.

His slender arms wrapped around Hiashi's neck in an embrace, a dark curtain of long silky hair flowing over his own and Hiashi's shoulder. His skin was as white as porcelain and looked to be just as smooth if the flawless creaminess of his elegant long fingers and slim arms was any indication. His eyes, though similar to Hiashi's, contained a hint of lilac, and they were scrunched slightly as he smiled softly, showing straight white teeth. He was tall and slender with a perfect toned figure and an ovular face that was completely free of any blemishes or scars. To put it simply, none of the servants had ever seen anybody as attractive as this man.

There was a moment's silence as all the servants admired the perfection of the young man. They were so wrapped up that they didn't notice that Gaara had re-entered the room and was now glaring at them.

"What are you all staring at?" he asked rudely, causing them all to jump with terrified expressions of their faces. Naruto was unsubtly trying to conceal the photograph behind his back, wanting to give it back to Hiashi. He knew that, if Gaara saw it, he was throw it into the fire like the cold-hearted bastard he was. It was useless though. Gaara saw that he was hiding something and hoisted the little candlestick into the air before yanking the photo out of his arms. Naruto was lucky not to have burned it. Dropping him to the floor in the same way as he had Hiashi, Gaara looked at the photograph. His reaction was similar to the servant's and they knew who he was looking at.

"Is this his?"

They nodded mutely in unison to his question. Without giving an explanation, he turned and walked off. The servants sent each other concerned looks and quickly followed at a much slower pace.

They soon found themselves in the dungeon. Hiashi came to the bars and looked at the photograph Gaara was holding up with shock. This had been the last thing he was expecting. He had thought he was going to die, that Gaara had changed his mind and decided that he'd be much less trouble dead. But Hiashi wasn't stupid; he refused to count his chickens before they hatched. Instead, he chose to get some answers. Primarily, why did Gaara have his photograph? Too terrified to form and eloquent query, he instead stammered one out.

"H-How-?" he asked.

"That's not the point," Gaara stated, and everybody in the vicinity became a little freaked out by the look of psychotic glee that was on his face. He pointed to the picture.

"Who's this?" he asked. Hiashi blinked.

"M-My family," he stammered, terrified by the demonic face mere inches away from him.

"I meant the boy, you stupid man," Gaara said harshly, and Hiashi flinched.

"W-why do you want to know?" he said, his voice still trembling. The look of fear on his face only made Gaara's smile grow wider.

"Just answer the question," he said smoothly, "Who is he?"

For a moment, it looked as though Hiashi wasn't going to answer. His eyes flickered to the servants who stood on their Master's shadow, and towards the barred window, but eventually he gulped and opened his mouth to respond.

"My nephew, Neji," he said softly. Gaara smirked.

"_Neji_," he repeated, as though tasting the foreign word on his tongue.

"Why did you want to know?" Hiashi asked, less terrified now that he knew the beast hadn't changed his mind and decided to kill him after all. Gaara's predatory smile set him on edge again and he scuttled backwards with fear.

"Because," Gaara said, "He's your ticket out of here,"

Hiashi felt a surge of hope at his words, but that was quickly quashed at the beast's next words and was replaced with horror and despair.

"You can leave on one condition," he said, pausing to increase the suspense.

"I want _him_," Gaara stated with utmost finality. The servants gaped at their Master with horror and Hiashi slid down the slimy cell wall with a sob.

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I hope this chapter is satisfactory. As you can see, it's not exactly the original storyline, but what's the use in writing a story that has already been written?

Review please!

Ja ne, all!

TenshiXXX


	4. Chapter 4

**Cast**

**Belle: Neji**

**Beast: Gaara**

**Gaston: Orochimaru**

**Maurice: Hiashi (Very OOC, be warned)**

**Armoire the wardrobe: Temari**

**Cogsworth: Kankuro**

**Lumiere: Naruto**

**Mrs Potts: Gai Sensei**

**Chip: Rock Lee**

**Maid: Sakura**

**Footstool: Ino**

**Sasuke is in this story! Fear not, emo fans! **

**There are cameras in this story, but not cars, televisions or anything else more technical than clean running water and toilets.**

Chapter 4:

Neji was becoming worried. What had been gentle snowfall soon turned into a furious blizzard, pelting the windows of his family's pretty little cottage. Neji loved weather like this. It was great, being able to curl up on the sofa by the fire with a warm cup of tea.

Normally, he would be extremely content and cozy as he sat on the plush sofa, listening to the furious storm rattle the shutters as the fire crackled in front of him. But he had a gut feeling that his uncle was out in that still, in terrible danger. This bothered Neji, because his gut feelings ordinarily turned out to be correct assumptions.

He stared into the golden flames, cradling his warm cup of tea but not drinking it. He saw Sasuke send him a worried glance, but ignored it. He didn't really want to answer any questions the younger Uchiha may have, although he was fairly certain that Sasuke wouldn't press him. Itachi, however...

Neji sent the elder Uchiha a wary glance, freezing when those unnerving black eyes locked on his pale ones.

"You worry for your uncle," Itachi commented, "And you fear retribution from Orochimaru for spurring his advances,"

Neji blinked slowly, shocked. Itachi always did this, but it didn't mean that Neji expected it when it happened. It was as though he was able to see into your mind and divine your thoughts and feelings effortlessly.

"Yes," Neji sighed

Itachi didn't need to badger Neji, simply because he could read Neji like an open book. Since the Hyuuga was aware of this fact, he knew it was futile to try to deny Itachi's words and just owned up to it.

"Itachi, what can I do?" Neji asked, his tone close to pleading, "If I continue to refuse Orochimaru, he'll eventually take what he wants by force!"

Itachi turned to look at Neji, a chilling look in his black eyes. It was a colder and more tangible emotion than anger. It was hatred of the purest form, and Neji found himself feeling sorry for that wreched snake of a man.

"He won't touch you," Itachi said, his voice as expressionless as ever. Neji relaxed, sending Sasuke a half-hearted glare when the younger brother sniggered quietly.

"As for your Uncle," the elder brother said quietly, "You can do nothing but wait. You'll accomplish nothing by going out into that blizzard, other than perhaps contracting pneumonia or hypothermia,"

"And I'm not nursing your sick ass back to health," Sasuke broke in with a smirk, earning a poke to his forehead from an amused Itachi. Neji smiled slightly at this familiar gesture, and the familiar scowl this action elicted from Sasuke.

With a sigh, Neji took a sip of hot tea, sinking back into the plush couch cushions as he stared at the faces of his younger cousins. Both were sleeping peacefully beneath a blanket, their faces bathed golden by the warm flickering light of the fire. He was glad that they weren't awake to see him worry. From past experiance, he was aware that seeing him anxious acted as a trigger to their disquiet. As long as he didn't act upset or afraid, they were content. He suspected that Hanabi wasn't even aware that he was currently getting harrassed by Orochimaru, and Hinata was ignorant to the forwardness of the snake-like man's advances.

Hinata stirred slightly, mumbling something in her sleep, before curling up even more on the couch. Moving his gaze from his cousins, Neji looked towards Itachi again, only to meet those black eyes. He froze momentarily.

"You're thinking about it," Itachi said, almost sounding as though he was reprimanding the Hyuuga, "You won't do yourself or Hiashi-san any good by worrying yourself sick,"

"I can't help it," Neji murmured, "I know that he's still out there in the storm,"

"Hiashi-san has most likely found himself some semblance of cover," Itachi said, "Although, considering the ineptitude of his navigational skills, he's most likely lost,"

"Do you think he's in danger?" Neji asked, attempting to keep his voice steady. By the brief exchange of looks between the two brothers, Neji knew he hadn't been successful.

"I'm not psycic, Neji," Itachi said gently.

"Even though it may seem like it sometimes," Sasuke interjected with a smirk.

"I can't make such an assumption. I know what he is likely to do in the event of a snowstorm, but even then I may be wrong," Itachi continued, ignoring his younger brother's comment.

"I know that," Neji said quickly (and a mite unconvincingly), "I just..."

He trailed off. Truthfully, he didn't really know _what _he wanted from Itachi, other than assurance that his Uncle was going to be alright. Something which even brilliant, seemingly perfect Uchiha Itachi couldn't give him. Neji morosely took a sip off his tea, staring into the fire.

The room was silent save for the sound of Itachi turning the pages of a thick old tome and the crackling of flames, althought there was a brief incident in which Sasuke cursed coloufully as a gave himself a papercut as he sorted his extensive case notes. Suddenly, the cosy atmosphere was shattered by the distinctive sound of somebody knocking at the door. With a puzzled frown- who would be visiting the cottage in the middle of a blizzard?- Itachi stood up to go and answer it. Neji thanked him and settled back into the couch.

Itachi had only been gone for a minute when he returned, looking slightly surprised and clutching a candlestick in a lax grip.

"Did you actually _buy _that piece of junk?" Sasuke asked, sneering at the ornament.

"Who are you calling a piece of junk?" a voice screeched. Both Sasuke and Neji jumped a mile, but Itachi simply glared at the candlestick.

"Do you not know the meaning of the word _quiet_?" Itachi asked...the candlestick. Neji and Sasuke blinked owlishly.

"Of course I do!" the voice said again, "But it's such a boring word,"

"Of course," Itachi responded dryly.

"Hey, are you making fun of me?"

"Now why would I do that?"

Neji and Sasuke turned to each other with incredulous expressions. Afterall, the sight of Uchiha Itachi arguing with an animate candle was one they never thought they'd see. Yet here they were, witnessing it.

"Itachi...," Sasuke said slowly, "You're talking to a candle,"

"I'm quite aware of that, Sasuke," Itachi replied with amusement.

"And the candle's talking back," Sasuke continued blankly.

"I'm also aware of that, Sasuke," Itachi responded with a raised eyebrow.

Sasuke slowly looked at an equally astonished Neji with a glazed look on his face, as though he had just been slapped and he couldn't quite get over the shock of it. But if Neji knew Sasuke (and he did), the Uchiha would recover and explode like a volcano just about...

"What the fuck?!"

...Now.

"Sasuke, control your tongue," Itachi reprimanded mildly. Obediantly, Sasuke shut his mouth with a snap and began to stare at the candle stick Itachi was still holding.

"It's rude to stare," the candle said petulantly, turning around in Itachi's hand so that its little waxy face was visible. At this, both Neji and Sasuke reeled back with twin yells of surprise.

"Well, what do you expect us to do?" Sasuke panted angrily, clutching his frantic heart, "You're a talking candle, for fuck's sake!"

"Sasuke," Itachi warned with a slight frown.

"Candles have feelings too, you know," the candlestick said passionately.

"Excuse me for never having come across a candle that talks before!" Sasuke shouted, causing Neji to let out a sigh of frustration. Great, now Sasuke was having a heated argument with the damn candlestick, while Hinata and Hanabi slept, peacefully unaware. Could it get any worse?

"That's because I'm special," the candle grinned, hopping out of Itachi's hand.

"Special _needs _is more like it," Sasuke muttered derisively under his breath.

"What did you say, bastard?" the candle screamed, raising its flaming arm. Neji was sure that, had it been human, its little face would have been flushed red due to fury. Not a good sign, especially when you added those flames into the equation.

"Sasuke, please," Neji put in wearily, "There's no need for us to argue,"

"Tell that to him!" the candle and Sasuke chorused, trading furious glares and then turning away, folding their arms childishly.

Itachi smirked at Neji, amusing shining in his dark eyes, and Neji returned the look automatically. Most of Sasuke's clients would be amazed to witness their dashing, aloof barrister behaving so immaturely, as the younger brother always acted completely in control and unfazeable in court.

"Neji," the candle said after only a few seconds of silence. He turned to the Hyuuga and hopped closer, a determined look on his little waxy face. Neji blinked down at him, trying not to show his fear.

"That's your name right?" the candle asked. Neji nodded mutely, his eyebrows knitted in confusion.

"Who's asking?" Neji asked, honestly curious.

"Uzumaki Naruto," the candle said seriously, "But I'm not here to exchange pleasantries,"

"Then why are you here?" Neji asked, crouching down to converse with Naruto properly.

"Your Uncle's in danger," the candle said without preamble.

"Danger?" Neji asked, as Sasuke and Itachi tensed up, their eyes rivetted to the tiny candle, "What kind of danger?"

....................................................................................................................................................

Hiashi shivered as he curled up in the corner, damp spreading across his back from the craggy cell wall. He wasn't sure how long he had been imprisoned, but his arms ached fiercly within the manacles, and his toes felt like lumps of ice.

The only bearable thing about this ordeal was the constant visits from the servants. Even Kankuro could be pleasant when he wasn't busy fretting about Gaara's wrath, as he was a craftsman aswell before he became a clock. He said that he had made marionettes as collector's items for a hobby, because he didn't need to work and he needed something to pass the time. It was refreshing, meeting somebody else who was as passionate about their craft as Hiashi was.

Currently, Kankuro was lamenting his inability to continue with his hobby due to the fact that he no longer possessed the hands to create the wonderful puppets he used to. Hiashi knew they were wonderful because Kankuro had taken the time and effort to heave an example larger than himself down to the dungeons to show the old Hyuuga.

Hiashi could empathise with the clock, as he knew how hard it would be have to give up inventing. Or for Neji to give up books.

At the reminder of his nephew, his countenance became visibly gloomier as he slumped within his chains. He didn't regret refusing Gaara's offer, but he wished that he's been given the chance to say goodbye to his family. He knew very well that the agony of losing a loved one was surpassed only by the agony of not knowing. He had experianced the latter when his twin brother, Hizashi, had died, crushed by falling roof beams in a house he was trying to protect from enemy soldiers. The opposition became increasingly infuriated when they could not break in, and finally resorted to blasting the house with cannon fire. Hizashi had seen what was happening (he was later told by the survivors, Hizashi's wife and a four year old Neji) and, instead of saving himself, he had opted to get as many people out as possible. He was the only person killed in the catastrophe, but it was days before the body was recovered and anyone knew that he was dead for sure.

Hiashi remembered the restless nights he experianced with poignant clarity. The denial, the desolation, the fear, the grief, the sadness, the desperate _hope _intermingled within a swirling vortex of emotion that left him a mess. He didn't want to put his children through that.

"I miss them," he muttered out loud, his voice echoing within the hollow confinement. He had forgotten Kankuro was there.

"As much as I fear Gaara, I'd probably miss him if he was gone too," the clock said quietly, sending Hiashi a pitying look.

"I wish I could at least tell them that I'm alright," the old Hyuuga sighed, "Neji and Hanabi should be alright, but Hinata is delicate,"

"Gaara doesn't care," the clock said with a pondorous shake of its head, "He's always been cruel and heartless. It was his downfall,"

"Downfall?" Hiashi asked, suddenly alert that he may learn something useful. His suspicions were confirmed when Kankuro, looking stricken, began a weak denial. Hiashi continued to regard him with a fixed gaze until Kankuro buckled.

"You see," the clock said, casting a nervous gaze about himself, "Gaara has always been cruel and cold to everyone. He has this philosophy that you should only care about yourself. He's never been normal, even when he was a child. He used to deliberately eviscerate animals for his amusement, and he never lost an opportunity to bully people,"

He paused with a sigh, staring at the slimy walls. The scratching sound of a rat scampering across the floor distracted Hiashi momentarily, and he diverted his attention towards where he thought the sound may be coming from. Once the scuttling had ceased, he once again focussed on the awkward-looking clock.

"When he was 15 years old, a terribly wounded, emanciated beggar came to the castle with a baby clasped in her arms, begging sanctuary," Kankuro continued before sending Hiashi a piercing look.

"He told her that she shouldn't have had a child if she couldn't look after it, and made Naruto slam the door in her face,"

Hiashi gaped with abject horror. How could anyone do such a thing to somebody in need? This Gaara must have a heart like a rotten apple to turn away such a desperate, needy individual, especially if she had a child with her.

"What happened after that?" Hiashi asked almost fearfully, "What was his downfall?"

"She knocked again," Kankuro said with a sad smile, "It turned out that this woman wasn't a beggar afterall. She was a sorcerer who had heard of Gaara's cruelty and tested him to see if the stories were true. When Naruto opened the door, she cursed the castle and the inhabitants to teach Gaara lesson,"

"Is there any way to break the curse?" Hiashi asked, pitying the clock and the other servants. He couldn't see why they had to suffer along with Gaara, because they were not the ones who deserved to be cursed, and he would willingly assist them in any way he could in order to break the enchantment.

Kankuro laughed hollowly.

"Of course, but it's impossible," he sighed wistfully, "We'll most likely be stuck like this forever,"

"But there is a way?" Hiashi urged. Kankuro nodded.

"What is it?"

"Gaara," the clock said, laughing bitterly, "Has to fall in love,"

.....................................................................................................................................................

"Captured!" Neji said fretfully, "Who? _Why_?"

"It's hard to explain," Naruto said with a sigh, "You'd have to see it to believe it,"

"Just explain!" Neji spat, gnawing on his thumb as he paced. Privately, he felt that anything was believable now that he had witnessed a walking talking candlestick arguing with the Uchiha brothers. Whatever Naruto said now, Neji would believe.

"You see," Naruto said slowly, "The prince of the castle is cursed, and if the town discovered that a monster was living nearby, the pitchforks would come out. He's just protecting himself. Your Uncle has seen his face now, you see,"

"Monster?" Itachi said sharply, "Is this prince disfigured in some way?"

"You could say that," Naruto said with a grimace, "It's hard to explain, but he looks like...a six foot tanuki with huge fangs,"

Neji recoiled with horror at the thought. It was little wonder that this prince didn't want anybody to see him if he resembled _that_. He felt a rush of sympathy towards his Uncle, who must have had the fright of his life when that came running towards him, intent on catching him, but that was over-whelmed by the sheer amount of pity he felt towards this prince.

"It must be terrible," he said, "To be that way. Is there anything that can be done?"

Sasuke shot Neji a look of disbelief, amazed that the Hyuuga was feeling sorry for the monster who was holding his Uncle captive, and Neji could understand that to an extent. However, he was sure that this prince had only imprisoned Hiashi out of self-preservation, and nobody deserved to look like that, no matter what evils he had committed.

Naruto's gaze pierced Neji's, an indecipherable look on his face.

"Yes," he said after an extremely long pause, "But there would be no point in me telling you, because you couldn't help,"

"So he hasn't always looked like that?" Neji asked curiously.

"No," Naruto laughed, "He used to be every girl's fantasy before he was cursed. Flaming red hair, blue eyes, broad shoulders...Your type, I guess,"

The candle grinned mischieviously as Neji's cheeks flamed, his mouth hanging open in shock. Not only was Naruto assuming he was gay, but he was also judging this prince to be the Hyuuga's perfect match! Who was he to say such a thing? Neji didn't think he was sending out any signals that proclaimed him to be like _that_, and Naurto didn't even know him well enough to judge his likes and dislikes. Was Naruto just joking, or did he truly believe that?

"You don't even know me, so how can you insinuate that?" Neji asked, afronted.

"I'm a good judge," the little candle said proudly. Neji decided to ignore him for now, lest his protests ignite an argument.

"Is this prince...dangerous?" he asked cautiously. Naruto winced.

"Well, dangerous is a big word..."

"Sasuke will go with you,"

Everybody froze and turned towards the eldest Uchiha, who looked oddly nonchalant considering what he just told them. He had been silent during their discussion, analysing every possibility like he genius he was. Now, he had come to a decision on the best course of action, and Neji was going to do as he said, because he knew that it would mean the difference between life and death.

"Listen carerfully," Itachi said gravely, "Naruto, you will show me a plan of the castle,"

"But I can't write!" the candle protested.

"Just tell me where everything is and the approximate size of each room and I'll do it," Itachi continued smoothly.

Naruto nodded mutely.

"I'll also need you to tell me this prince's daily routine so that I can devise a way to find Hiashi-san without your paths crossing. Then, you will go to the castle ahead of Neji and Sasuke to make certain that the prince will be far away from the main entrance. If this is not so, you must find a way to get outside in order to meet Neji and Sasuke before the prince finds out that Neji and Sasuke are there, and that you have brought them to the castle. Understood?"

"Yeah," Naruto said.

"Afterwards, I want you to keep a close eye on the prince and try to keep him occupied within a room that Neji and Sasuke will not be forced to pass or go through in order to reach Hiashi-san. Can you manage that?"

He turned to Neji and Sasuke, regarding them grimly. They were silent and wide-eyed, and Neji suddenly felt like a 7 year old again, meeting his best friend's amazing big brother. Even though Itachi was barely 2 inches taller than him now that so many years had passed, those deep black eyes made that difference feel like feet.

"Neji, Sasuke," Itachi said, "Get in, get out. Don't linger, or you won't be able to sit down for a week once I get my hands on you,"

"Kinky," Sasuke smirked, ignoring the flat look his brother sent him.

"Take appropriate equipment for picking locks, as I'm certain that Hiashi-san will be detained within a cell," Itachi ordered, "Don't deviate from my current plan. Sasuke, keep your temper in check, or I'll show you _my _temper,"

Sasuke glared sullenly at his brother, but he made no move to contradict this statement, as he knew that these words were perfectly justified.

"Any questions?"

They shook their heads in unison.

"Good. Now we wait for the storm to pass, and then you can set off,"

.........................................................................................................................................

Hiashi was dosing lightly when he heard heavy footsteps descending the roughly-hewn stairs. Raising his head, he winced as the weak light of a single candle entered his vision, his eyes unaccustomed to even mild brightness after being incarcerated within the darkness for so long. He recognised the large hulking shadow as his assailant, Gaara, and wished he could shrink back into the shadows, cowering in the darkness. Unfortunately, this was an impossibility, as he was still firmly chained to the wall, and had been even in sleep.

_That explains the crick in my neck_, he winced, rolling his head to elevate the pain somewhat.

He watched in silent terror as Gaara walked closer, his face eerily lit from below set in an expression of smug satisfaction.

"Naruto," he said with relish, "Isn't here,"

"What does that have to do with me?" Hiashi asked hoarsely, staring straight into pitiless eyes.

"Tell me," Gaara said slowly, his lips twisted in a cruel smirk, "Where do you think he has gone?"

Hiashi frowned, contemplating this as his pale eyes darted around the cell. When no answer was forthcoming, Gaara sighed, sounding exasperated at Hiashi's apparent obtusity.

"Naruto has gone to your house to warn your precious family," Gaara said with savage glee, watching Hiashi's eyes widen with horror.

"What will your family do, I wonder?" Gaara mocked, "No doubt your gallant, handsome nephew will force your daughters to remain behind as he sets forth on a noble quest to slay the beast and set his dear Uncle free,"

He paused with an unpleasant smile stretching across his lips, baring sharp fangs sinisterly, as this statement set in. Comprehension dawned on Hiashi's lined face.

"But," Gaara continued with a carnivourous grin, "He won't count on me lying in wait for him,"

"No!" Hiashi shouted, his pained voice echoing within the dungeon, "Please, don't! I'll do anything, just don't hurt Neji!"

Gaara's eyes were cold in the face of Hiashi's emotional pleading, and Hiashi partially knew it was pointless, but he _had _to keep trying, he just had to.

"What will I do with him, I wonder," Gaara murmured, tapping his finger against his chin slowly, "Perhaps..."

He paused, staring directly into Hiashi's stricken face.

"Perhaps I'll force him into a life of slavery, performing only the most menial and pointless tasks for my amusement,"

"Why?" Hiashi croaked desperately, struggling with his chains, "Why would you want to do that?"

"Because I hate his beauty and dignity," Gaara hissed with utter loathing, all traces of amusement gone from his visage, "And I want to destroy it!"

Hiashi screamed animalistically, thrashing within his bonds like a madman, scraping his bare arms on the walls. The only coherent thought his mind could come up with was _Not Neji, not Neji, please, not Neji_, but it didn't seem that anybody was listening. In an extremity of feverish distress, he began to insult and goad the hulking figure snuffing out the candle, but it was as though Gaara was deaf to the world.

"No!" Hiashi screamed, tears forming in his eyes now as Gaara retreated up the steps, "Please!"

The heavy door shut with an awful finality and Hiashi was left alone with his despairing thoughts within the crushing darkness.

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**I truly am sorry. I know this is overdue, but I have exams on, and I have other pics to update aswell. I'm revising and writing at the same time, no small feat, I can tell you. I'll try to be quicker next time.**

**Please review, rather than just clicking the little option of "Add this story to my favourite story list" or whatever. I'm not going to hold my fics hostage because I don't get as many reviews as I wanted, but they keep me motivated, and I can't write unless I'm motivated. Just drop me a line, saying what you liked and disliked (within reason). It really goes a long way to getting me pumped enough to write more.**

**Ja ne, all!**

**TenshiXXX**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The castle was dismal-grey and neglected. It stood in the midst of a forest, enclosed within a thick stone wall and wrought iron gates. It truly looked as thought it would have once been a splendid place to behold, but time, ever the enemy, had taken its toll. The strained glass windows were no longer bright and colourful, but were dull coated in grime, and the grass was overgrown to such an extent that it rose above the deep drifts of snow that blanketed the surrounding area.

It had been easier than expected to enter the castle undetected. Naruto had told them that Gaara rarely left his chambers, so they were fairly safe. However, Neji was beginning to get a gut feeling that something was terribly wrong. It was too silent. And, as cliché as it sounded, he was beginning to feel as though he was being watched. He chalked it up to nerves and the eerie atmosphere of the place and trudged on resolutely, his long legs ploughing through deep snow drifts. Naruto hopped along beside him, and Sasuke walked as easily as he would had this been a normal stroll through the village. Neji scowled and waded on.

The interior of the castle was spartan yet so very obviously lived in. A fire crackled merrily, filling the room with a dull light. The shadows on the walls were dull and blurry, giant and ghoulish in the half light. They appeared alive and Neji shivered slightly. The sensation of being watched was growing ever stronger.

"Follow me," Naruto whispered, eyes darting around. Even he was aware of the necessity of silence, "It's not long now. Just down this hall and-"

There was a low rumble of cruel laughter. Neji's eyes widened with fear as he stood rooted to the spot. Naruto and Sasuke wheeled around, Sasuke unsheathing his sword.

"Come out, you big ugly bastard," Sasuke goaded, "Instead of lurking in the shadows. Are you so hideous that you have to hide your face? Or maybe your looks really _do _kill?"

"Sasuke!" Neji hissed, "Stop it!"

He was desperately afraid of what Gaara could do to Sasuke. Naruto had described him as a monstrous beast, a six foot tanuki with razor fangs and claws that could gut a pig.

"At least the pretty one knows not to cross me," Gaara chuckled.

Neji shuddered. Where was that voice coming from? It seemed perilously close, almost as though Gaara was breathing down his neck, speaking the words directly into his ear...

And, with a jolt, Neji realised that this was the case. However, that realisation came too late. His arms were restrained roughly and his head was jerked back by his hair. He let out a small sound of shock, his fear intensifying as he felt the broad body pressing into his back, claws biting into his arms savagely.

"I find that my ugliness is often the reason that I get what I want," Gaara said. Neji noticed that Sasuke looked taken aback by the Prince's appearance, which scared him. If Sasuke could be unnerved by this creature, Neji was certain that he did not want to turn around and look it in the eye.

"What are you?" Sasuke asked, his black eyes wide. Gaara laughed quietly in response.

"I am what I made myself," he responded cryptically, "I am now as ugly without as I am within. Does that scare you?"

He tightened his hold on Neji's arms, causing Neji to let out a pained groan. Something sharp brushed his neck, and he fought to recoil.

"Don't hurt him!" Sasuke shouted, dropping his sword and holding up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Let me go, you disgusting bastard!" Neji swore through gritted teeth, struggling more persistently.

""Disgusting bastard"?" Gaara asked, sounding amused rather than offended, "I don't think I want to let you go now,"

"You wouldn't let me go anyway," Neji responded with corrosive hatred in his voice.

"At least you're intelligent enough to know that much," Gaara murmured into Neji's ear, "That will make things so much easier for me,"

"What do you want?" Neji demanded, twisting his arms so that he could grasp Gaara's powerful forearms, digging his nails in. Gaara's only response was laughter.

"What do I want?" he asked, almost as though he was trying to find the answer to that question himself. Neji wondered at that. Gaara seemed to know what it was that he wanted, yet he didn't to want to divulge that information yet. It was almost like he intended to negotiate, which struck Neji as odd. Gaara had them trapped here, and he could do anything he wanted to Neji and Naruto, and nobody would lift a hand to help. What could Hinata and Hanabi do? They didn't even know that Neji was here, and, even if they did, they wouldn't be able to convince the villagers to come to rescue or avenge Neji and Hiashi. There only defence was Itachi, who knew that they had come to Gaara's castle to pluck Hiashi from the Prince's clutches.

Yet Gaara couldn't possibly know anything of Itachi, so he couldn't have been holding back for that reason. What reason did he then have? Neji couldn't solve this riddle. It felt as though he was being asked to complete a puzzle with only half of the pieces.

Despite this, it would be foolish _not _to attempt to negotiate with Gaara. It may have been their only way out of that mess they had gotten themselves into by blindly walking into danger. Sasuke had only come because he didn't want Neji to get hurt, and Neji was willing to bet that Itachi knew what was going to happen when he sent them to the castle. Even now, he was probably marshalling a small army to storm the castle at the slightest sign of trouble.

"I'll give you anything you want," Neji said, gritting his teeth in pain.

"In return for...?" Gaara asked. Neji felt a single sharp talon of Gaara's large monstrous hand tracing over his arm almost lazily, as though reminding him that he was in more trouble than ever before. Neji ignored this to the best of his abilities and answered Gaara's question.

"In return for you setting my uncle free, of course," he responded.

"Nothing else?" Gaara asked, sounding supremely amused now.

"No," Neji said, completely nonplussed. There was a pause, one that lasted perhaps a few seconds yet seemed to carry on for hours. Then Gaara spoke.

"Very well," he said with an unpleasant tone that suggested that he was leering, "Naruto, free Hiashi and escort him off the grounds,"

Naruto visibly bristled at the order, but hopped out of the room quickly, throwing back a burning glare.

"But what do you want?" Neji asked, his confusion mounting. He shifted in Gaara's grip in order to become more comfortable.

"Isn't it obvious?" Gaara asked. Neji scowled.

"No, it isn't. So, if you would enlighten me..." He trailed off, a clear indication that he was inviting Gaara to continue.

"Your pride," Gaara said dismissively.

"My pride is not something I can freely give you," Neji protested after a moment of stunned silence, "It's an abstract concept, not something I can hold and pass on to you,"

"Oh, I don't want your pride. But I _do _want you to relinquish it," Gaara responded, slowly turning Neji around to face him.

Neji gaped in horror. Standing before him was a creature so hideous that Neji was inclined to believe that it had crawled out of the very depths of hell. It could not possibly be of this world.

The creature was six and a half feet tall and cast a shadow over Neji with its bulky form. The head appeared too small in comparison to the ears and body, and would have appeared comical if the creature wasn't so terrifying. Its teeth were serrated and white, and were long and formidable in the same way as its claws. However, the thing that most scared Neji was its eyes. They dripped with malice and hatred, yet, underneath, Neji would see pain and loneliness. He forced himself to ignore this. If this creature did not display compassion towards him, why should he attempt to empathise with the creature and be kind to it?

"Why are you like this?" he asked, wishing he could draw backwards, out of Gaara's grip. Gaara laughed, his warm yet surprisingly sweet-smelling breath fanning over Neji's face.

"I've already told you," he said with another cruel smirk, "I am ugly outside because I am ugly inside,"

"I know," Neji said, "I suppose I should have phrased my question better. Who made you into such an evil person?"

"Who?" Gaara asked with a quick laugh, "Not what?"

"Often, those who are most cruel became so twisted because somebody made them that way," Neji explained, thinking back to Itachi's random lessons on human psychology.

Something dark and unidentifiable flitted across Gaara's expression before he quickly smothered it. Neji didn't know if it was anger...or something else. He tried not to show his fear, but he must not have been able to conceal a flinch in time, because Gaara's cruel eyes lingered on Neji unsettlingly before he turned his gaze to the window.

"In some ways, you are correct, Hyuuga Neji," Gaara mused, startling Neji purposefully by using his full name. It was a small confirmation that Hiashi was being held here. However, Neji was too intrigued by Gaara's past, and too scared of the man himself, to pay much attention.

He waited patiently for Gaara to say more, but the prince remained silent, staring out of the window pensively. At last, it appeared that Sasuke could not contain himself any longer.

"I hope you don't think that I'm going to let Neji go without a fight," he hissed through perfect teeth. Gaara jerked himself out of his thoughts and regarded Sasuke almost boredly.

"If he wants his uncle to go back to his precious little cousins, then he will do as I say," he responded, unfazed by the fearsome weapon Sasuke was now holding.

"Sasuke, don't," Neji warned with half a glance at his friend.

"You wouldn't be able to keep your side of the bargain, Neji," Sasuke warned, dark eyes boring into Gaara, "He wants something I don't think you will be able to give so easily,"

"So somebody's finally figured it out, then," Gaara said, his vindictive smirk widening, "And this one still doesn't realise. It looks like Neji here is all looks and no brains. A pity,"

Neji glared, but Sasuke bristled like an angry tiger.

"And what do you have, since you don't appear to be in possession of either?" Sasuke asked, his razor sharp wit surfacing. Far from feeling insulted, Gaara laughed.

"I must have some form of intelligence if I was able to capture you two," he said, "And as for looks..."

To both the surprise of both brunets, he let go of Neji so suddenly that Neji stumbled slightly before righting himself. Making his way over to the far wall, Gaara gripped a silver sash and used it to yank open the red and cream curtain.

"...I had them once," Gaara continued, finishing his sentence. Neji barely heard him, and even Sasuke raised a single eyebrow in surprise and admiration.

Behind the curtains was not a window, as Neji and Sasuke had imagined, but a life-sized portrait of a handsome man gazing out of a large window, through which a thicket of thorns choking some red rose bushes was visible. He was seated in an ornate silver throne, authorative and relaxed as he gripped his sword almost lovingly. His clothes were a rich burgundy and were edged with a platinum colour, and the crown seated upon his crimson hair was white-gold and studded with garnets, matching the pommel of his sword. His black-edged aquamarine eyes were contemplative and glittered with harsh, cold intelligence, like that of a deadly predator. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to describe him as an abused animal which had finally struck back with a ferocity that none could rival.

"What's with all the silver and red?" Sasuke asked.

"They are burnished steel and rivers of blood," Gaara responded enigmatically. Sasuke, however, appeared to understand, and nodded curtly, his eyes seeking out Neji's. Neji didn't realise. He was too busy staring at the painting with something close to awe. How far Gaara must have fallen.

"Was it somebody close to you?" Neji asked slowly, "The person who made you like this, did they hurt you?"

Gaara's eyes snapped back to Neji, and this time it was Gaara's turn to hide his fear. Neji could understand why. He obviously didn't want Neji to know so much.

"It doesn't matter anymore," Gaara responded, "He is gone, long gone. His body is dust. And it is no concern of your's,"

Neji was about to open his mouth to object when Naruto returned, without Hiashi.

"He won't come," Naruto told Gaara, glaring up at him. Gaara sighed.

"I'll have to remove him, then," Gaara responded, "If either of you move, I will know, and I will kill the old man,"

He swept out of the room, neglecting to close the curtain again. Neji returned his gaze to it, unable to help himself. It seemed such a pity that Gaara should have fallen like this. He was like a great eagle that had broken its wing irreparably and was doomed to remained grounded, its solitary majestic flights only a memory. Neji traced a single finger over the painting's hand, wondering if Gaara would ever fly again.

"Stop it,"

Neji jumped, expecting to see Gaara re-enter the room. After a moment, he realised that it was Sasuke's voice that had spoken.

"Stop what?" Neji asked, bemused, "I'm not damaging the painting just by touching it,"

"I'm not talking about that," Sasuke responded with narrowed eyes.

"Then what _are _you talking about?" Neji asked, turning to face Sasuke fully. Sasuke's frown only deepened.

"Stop feeling sorry for him," he said, noticing the way Neji stiffened.

"I don't pity him," he said after he had recovered, "I think it's a shame that he's fallen from this-" He indicated the regal, imposing painting, "-to what he is now."

"Neji, let me tell you something," Sasuke said, making his way over to Neji, "Itachi knows a lot about magic and curses. I wasn't supposed to tell you this, but he's a sorcerer in his own right. And he once told me that the only thing that could possibly change somebody so drastically that the nature of their form is altered is the most powerful of curses. The price for casting a curse like this is always the spell caster's life,"

He faced Neji squarely, his expression grave and cool. Neji was beginning to worry. Surely Gaara could be _that _bad?

"Neji, do you think somebody would cast a curse like that on somebody for revenge or some other petty reason?" Sasuke continued, gripping Neji's upper arms forcefully. Neji shook his head mutely.

"No," Sasuke hissed, "Gaara must have done things so malicious, so terrible, that a powerful sorcerer stepped in and sacrificed their life to stop him. Do you realise what this means?"

"It means that I am, what you might call, evil," Gaara said, entering the room, accompanied by Naruto, who was scowling. Hiashi was absent. Neji's fears returned.

"Where is he?" he whispered, "What have you done to him?"

"I set him free," Gaara responded, "That was what you wanted,"

"Naruto?" Neji asked, turning to the candlestick, "Did he?"

"Yeah," Naruto grunted. While he seemed angry, Neji could tell that Naruto was telling the truth, and visibly relaxed. Gaara saw this, and the dreaded smirk returned. What Sasuke had told Neji about Gaara made the grin seem much more malevolent.

Gaara stalked forwards. Despite his bulk, he moved with the sleek grace of a wildcat. Neji tensed, but did not move away. He would not show weakness in front of this beast.

Yet he was unable to contain a cry of shock when Gaara lifted him up bodily and carried him away, kicking and struggling.

"Where are you taking me?" Neji asked, unable to keep a trickle of fear from seeping into his voice.

Gaara didn't answer, and Neji fervently hoped that this was not the end for him. He heard Sasuke shouting after him, but the door between them had been locked. Sasuke could not help him. Nobody could. Naruto, too, had been locked inside the room.

It was mere minutes later when Neji was dropped roughly onto the stone floor. He winced and lurched to his feet. To his surprise, he was not in a dungeon or torture chamber as he had expected, but was standing in a large, run-down kitchen.

"We do have a torture chamber, but you won't see it," Gaara said, sounding amused. Neji realised that he had spoken aloud with some embarrassment.

"What are you waiting for? Get working," Gaara said, "Ask the servants where the cleaning supplies are,"

Neji stood dumbly in the middle of the kitchen for a moment as Gaara walked away.

"W-Wait!" he said, jolting himself out of his trance, "What am I supposed to be doing? And what are you going to do with Sasuke?"

A terrible smirk formed on Gaara's lips. Neji's heart thumped with fear.

"He will be...an insurance," Gaara said, "If you do anything to displease me, he will die,"

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Terribly sorry for the lack of updates. I really shouldn't have started so many fanfics without finishing the first one. Hopefully, this chapter is satisfactory.

Ja ne, all!

TenshiXXX


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:

The man with the blue skin was, in Itachi's opinion, more than he outwardly seemed. Itachi had been watching him since he had put his plan into action several days previously, and he was relieved that this huge mercenary owed no allegiances to Orochimaru, even in light of the fact that Orochimaru was his current employer. Frankly, on several occasions, Itachi wondered whether he loathed the snake-like man who had spent so long striking fear into Neji's heart. Sometimes, his eyes would flicker with distaste and his fingers twitch in the direction of the gargantuan sword he had strapped to his back.

Itachi decided that he liked that man.

He was outlandish, Itachi decided. At over six feet tall, he towered over Orochimaru. He was clad in a simple black cloak with a high collar which did not conceal his rather unique features. His eyes were beady and sheltered by jutting blue brows, and across his cheeks he had strange, gill-like features that appeared to have almost been gashed into his sharp cheekbones. When he smiled, which he did a lot, his teeth, gleaming white, shone sharply, like barbed wire.

If Itachi was anybody else, he would have feared and hated this shark man due to his appearance only. But Itachi did not employ such prejudices, and his perceptions of what was normal or attractive were skewed. He did not think like other people, which may have been the reason that he had advanced so far in his profession. Every other surgeon said _It just works that way_. Itachi asked _why?_

Itachi was watching from a distance, pretending to be engrossed in his thoughts as he stared at nothing in particular. When the shark man caught his eye as Itachi stared, Itachi did not react, as though he was not looking at the stranger and was merely daydreaming. He hoped that the shark man would be curious enough to investigate.

Orochimaru was laughing with his closest (and only) friend, Kabuto. He had the easiest of the town's women perched on his knee, complementing his finely tailored clothes, which Itachi knew had been made by Neji's uncle, or perhaps Neji himself.

Itachi snorted to himself as he took a sip of his ice-cold drink. He longed to hit that man just once, and hoped that he would get a chance before the end. With a grin that would make the gutsiest of men run for the hills concealed behind his beverage, Itachi saw Orochimaru's eyes fill with fear as he noticed Itachi sitting across the room from him. Slowly, for effect, Itachi deliberately looked into Orochimaru's cruel eyes with a scowl of purest loathing. He could have laughed at the way Orochimaru warred between fear and anger before he stood up and gestured for his entourage to follow him. Itachi had never said that he wasn't slightly evil at times.

In Orochimaru's haste, he did not notice that the most obvious of his associates had not followed. Shark man's large figure was obscured by shadows, only the gleam of his eyes showing that he wasn't a bizarre statue. Itachi caught his eye again and held his gaze for a few moments. Then, he nodded imperceptibly. Taking the hint, shark man crossed the expansive room and sat across from Itachi. Up close, his appearance was even more alarming, but there was also a gleam of friendliness hidden within his stance. Although he looked as though he would have no qualms about cutting somebody to ribbons with the huge sword he wielded, he was relaxed and amicable.

"You chose a good spot," shark man said, speaking for the first time. Despite his deceptively savage appearance, he had a very human, deep voice.

"I didn't want Orochimaru gaining any knowledge of our conversation," Itachi explained, pleased that this shark man was even more astute than he had anticipated, "Therefore, it seemed imperative that we should be away from the windows in an isolated spot with a view of the door,"

"You should have become a mercenary," shark man said with a wide, sharp-toothed grin, "I've got a feeling you and I would have worked well together,"

Itachi smiled briefly, taking a sip of his drink. "Perhaps," he said. Shark man's grin widened and he stretched.

"I doubt you got my attention in such a sophisticated way just so that we could talk without Orochimaru around," he said, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"No, I did not," Itachi replied, keeping his voice calm. He could not afford to blunder now.

"I'm guessing it has something to do with Orochimaru," shark man said, scratching his chin, "Am I right?"

"You are correct," Itachi confirmed with a slight inclination of his head. Kisame studied him for a moment, prior to laughing slightly.

"I charge a lot, you know," he said, "I don't come cheap,"

"I can pay any expense," Itachi replied, "And extra as reimbursement, because you will no doubt lose money if you decide to go through with this,"

Itachi couldn't be sure, but he could have sworn that shark man had raised an eyebrow. It was difficult to tell due to the man's unusual facial construction.

"You hate this guy that much?" shark man asked. He didn't look appalled. In fact, he looked as though he was sympathising with Itachi.

"My plans for him are incredibly lenient in comparison to what I actually want to do to him," Itachi said, his voice venom-laced.

"Then why don't you give into the desire to dish out the pain you really want to?" shark man asked curiously.

"I am no monster," Itachi said eventually. He wondered when and why he had allowed this conversation to transcend the realms of business and move onto a more personal level.

"But if I decided to take liberties...," shark man said with a bloody grin.

"I would certainly not tell you not to," Itachi said. Shark man's grin only grew more vicious.

"Hoshigaki Kisame," he said, reaching out an enormous blue hand. Itachi took it, feeling a strange thrill leap up his spine as the callouses abraded his softer hands, and he wasn't at all sure that it was because he recognised that name.

"You are a wanted criminal in 8 countries," Itachi said, their hands still joined. They hadn't shook yet, as Itachi had yet to give his own name.

"I'm flattered that you've heard of me, Itachi-san," Kisame said, shaking Itachi's hand firmly. Itachi hoped his expression had not betrayed his surprise that Kisame had heard of him. He was famous within the upper classes and the academic community, but less so within the lower classes. His previous analysis had been correct; there was definitely more to Kisame than there appeared to be.

"How could I not have heard of the strongest of the Seven Swordsman?" Itachi asked wryly. The group was, afterall, legendary. In fact, the children of the town often played Seven Swordsmen, frequently fighting over who was the one who got to play Kisame.

"How indeed?" Kisame murmured. Itachi did not know what that question was supposed to mean, so he ignored it.

"Now that we have exchanged pleasantries," Itachi said instead, "I would like to discuss the terms of this transaction,"

"You love using long words, don't you?" Kisame grinned. To his surprise, Itachi found his lips twitching slightly.

"I'm an academic," he said.

"I suppose that really does explain everything," Kisame said, "We could definitely flesh out the basic plan now, and decide the rest later on,"

Itachi nodded, finding that acceptable.

"Very well," he said, "Firstly, I will tell you what I want you to help me with. Then you can specify the cost,"

"Fine by me," Kisame said with a shrug of his massive shoulders. Itachi balanced his chin on one elegant slender hand as he fixed Kisame with a piercing stare.

"I need you to spy on Orochimaru for me," he said, "And, when I have enough information, I want you to assist me in disposing of him whilst making it appear to be an accident,"

Kismet's silence was unnerving. Itachi sipped his drink while he waited for an answer.

"You know, I was planning on retiring and settling down here. That's why I'm working for him; I want a bit of extra money," Kisame murmured, "And killing him would run the risk of getting me on the hit list of this country aswell. This will cost you,"

"I would feel guilty if this caused you to lose the chance to retire here," Itachi said, "So I am giving you assurance that I will employ every ounce of my intelligence to make this work, and I also ensure you that I will pay whatever price you desire,"

"Well," Kisame said slowly, "I'm not sure you'd pay the price I desire,"

There was something about the way Kisame said those words that put Itachi on edge. He was sure that he was about to be asked for something that he could not give, and that would be the end of his plans to rid the town of Orochimaru's foul influence. This thought spurred him to reiterate his earlier words.

"I will pay you whatever you desire," Itachi said tightly, "Tell me what you want and you can have it here and now, if you so choose,"

For some odd reason, Kisame seemed inordinately amused by Itachi's words.

"Anything?" Kisame asked with that grin of his.

"Anything," Itachi confirmed.

"Here and now?"

"Yes," Itachi said tersely. Kisame laughed at some hidden joke.

"Well, I want your pretty ass on a platter, but I'm not sure you'd consent to giving it to me here and now," Kisame grinned, although it was marred by some tension, "Actually, I'm not sure you'd consent to give it to me at all,"

"And why not?" Itachi asked, affronted that this man clearly thought he was shallow or unwilling to go to whatever lengths he needed to achieve his goals. He wasn't sure which one was worse.

"I'm sure you know why," Kisame said with that infuriating grin of his. But it seemed subdued, as though Kisame was actually conscious of his bizarre appearance.

"Kisame-san, I have very different ideas about what is aesthetically pleasing than most people, so you need not worry that I would not go through with this because of something so trivial," Itachi said firmly, "And I would do this if you were the most grotesque person in the world if I knew that it would secure my chances of ridding the world of Orochimaru,"

"Very well, Itachi-san," Kisame said seriously, reaching out his hand once more, "You've got yourself a deal,"

They shook on it, and Itachi's hand twitched as Kisame let go. He found it both amusing and annoying that he had already grown to like this bizarre shark man.

"I said I would compensate you for the money you will lose by killing Orochimaru," Itachi reminded him.

"So you did," Kisame muttered, his sharp teeth glinting predatorily, "In that case, think of that as an advanced payment. Do you live close by?"

Itachi was lucky he was an Uchiha, or he would have knocked his glass off the table in shock. As it was, he merely stared, his eyes slightly wider than normal.

"My family's estate is just down the road," he said, recovering quickly.

"Is mom home?" Kisame asked with a lecherous grin. Itachi nearly rolled his eyes. His brow twitched with the urge to do so.

"No," Itachi said shortly. He didn't want Kisame too close too soon, and informing Kisame that his mother had retired to Kismet's home village of Kirigakure several years ago was traversing into the realms of way too personal. Of course, letting Kisame have sexual contact with him was also into the realms of way too personal, but it was a necessity. He needed to purge the world of Orochimaru.

"I don't think it would be advisable for us to engage in sexual activities yet," Itachi said anyway. He wasn't in any hurry to get started. There was so much that he needed to organise, and, if he couldn't do the job properly, he wasn't going to do it at all.

"Why is that?" Kisame asked him. Itachi couldn't really answer. He just knew that he had never slept with a man before, and liked to keep everybody at arm's length. Even Neji and Sasuke saw a carefully constructed mask that he put up when was upset. Why would he let a stranger in so deeply when even his little brother saw only the impeccable perfection of Uchiha Itachi's facade?

Kisame was waiting for an answer. Itachi was glad that his bangs were so long and hid his face from view.

"I am not so promiscuous," he responded. He hoped that the answer was enough to satisfy Kisame.

"I can see that for myself," Kisame snorted, "I don't see why it's a problem, anyway. I won't read any further into it. I've just been celibate for so long that-,"

"You have blue balls?" Itachi asked. The moment the words were out of his mouth, he fought the urge to slam his head into the wall. Not only had he used language that was far beneath him, but...

"Blue balls?" Kisame said, wiping an eye as he laughed, "I'd say,"

"That was both tactless and tasteless of me," Itachi said, "I apologise,"

"No need," Kisame said, gesturing with one massive hand, "I needed a reason to laugh. Orochimaru is so boring. Sometimes I want to kill him for that alone,"

"Does he not slaughter enough innocents for you?" Itachi asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"No, just old rivals and sleezeballs like himself. There's no loyalty in his circle,"

Kisame scratched his thick blue hair with a calculating look in his eye.

"He seems worried about something," Kisame continued, "That something wouldn't happen to be you, would it?"

"Possibly," Itachi admitted, "Although I think he is equally afraid of his former friend, Jiraiya,"

"The guy who writes those porn books?" Kisame asked, sounding sceptical.

"I assure you, he's not a man you would like to cross," Itachi said, "Although I do sometimes wonder how he could possibly have been a legendary warrior once. He acts like a person of half his age,"

"Or maybe you just act like a person twice your age?" Kisame asked, as though he had solved a great philosophical conundrum. Itachi decided not to respond to that particular remark.

"Regardless, we can be sure that Orochimaru is being cautious. It will only make our job more difficult," he said.

"It sounds like it's because of you, so would it be alright if I blamed you, Itachi-san?" Kisame asked jokingly.

"No," Itachi said shortly. He was only partially to blame, afterall. Orochimaru was also treading lightly because Jiraiya too was watching him, and because he was set on luring Neji into his trap. Orochimaru foolishly thought that Neji was stupid enough to think he had bettered himself and would no longer practice his cruel and deceitful ways. Even if Neji was fooled, Itachi wouldn't be, and Sasuke's prejudices against Orochimaru ran so deep that Itachi knew his brother would sooner tie Neji up than watch him walk into Orochimaru's arms.

There was also the fact that Orochimaru was a very ugly man, who only had so much sex because of his quick tongue and gold-filled pockets. Being neither idiotic enough to fall for Orochimaru's wiles, or poor and self-deprecating enough to want for money, Neji would not fall so far as to warm the man's bed.

Even if Itachi was going to do the same to save Neji, despite his revulsion at the prospect of Neji falling so far. His own hypocrisy amused him. He was just glad that Kisame appeared to clean his teeth on a regular basis, unlike the lecherous snake man.

"So we've got a deal?" Kisame said, his voice cutting through Itachi's musings suddenly. Luckily, he voice was as soft as butter and Itachi was not overly startled.

"Yes, of course," Itachi said.

"Does that include you making two-" Kisame's grin was voracious "-_payments_? One now, and one after we've killed him?"

"That depends," Itachi said cautiously, "Do you mean that I have to make a..._payment_ in the immediate future, or simply during the course of this plan? And how close would you define the immediate future?"

"Now?" Kisame said, leaning further across the table and hooking his thick fingers in Itachi's thick, sleek hair. He didn't know whether or not he regretted not wearing his hair in its customary ponytail today. He suspected that there were many things he would not know when he was around this eccentric stranger.

"If that is what you want," Itachi said, making no move to remove Kisame's hand from his hair. The area they were in was secluded and shadowed. The only person who could see them was the barman, Sasori, who was an old friend of Itachi's and disliked Orochimaru almost as much as Itachi.

"Oh, that is definitely what I want," Kisame murmured. Itachi felt a strange shudder pass through his body.

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Neji swayed with fatigue as Gaara expected his handiwork. He had been scrubbing the floor for over 3 hours without a break, and had been working since the crack of dawn before then, after a scant 3 hour sleep. When Gaara had said that he was to be a slave, he had instantly conjured up thoughts of concubines, feeling disgusted. Now, he actually wished that had been the case. He had never felt so tired in his life.

"Passable," Gaara dismissed, to Neji's relief.

"Is there anything else I need to do?" Neji asked, hoping fervently that this wasn't the case.

"Dinner," Gaara grunted, "Don't fall asleep and kill yourself,"

Neji nodded, wondering what somebody like Gaara would eat, and hoping that he would not kill himself as he tried to make the food.

Gaara left the room silently. Neji wondered how somebody so large could be so light-footed when he wanted to be as he searched for the raw ingredients of the dish he planned on making. By making a delicious roast, he hoped that Gaara would take pity on him, allowing him to retire earlier. If he was really lucky, Gaara would let him see Sasuke. Aside from the assurances that Sasuke was safe and whole, Gaara allowed no talk of Neji's best friend.

In the icebox, Neji found a huge pork joint and, in the cellar, fresh vegetables stored in huge, cool barrels. He shivered as he gathered a selection of parsnips, carrots and peas. It was freezing, as though he had stepped outside into the raging blizzard. By candlelight, he also found a sack of potatoes and bags of flour.

It took two trips for him to get all of the ingredients. Then he set about peeling the parsnips and carrots and shelling the peas. Then he carefully washed the roast before cutting a slip of meat off in order to make the gravy. He was disheartened to realise that he had to go back into the cellar for an onion. He cooked the diced onion and meat in a pan with some olive oil, adding some vinegar, water, stock and garlic when he deemed it ready and he had a decent gravy, which he would re-heat when he had roasted the pork.

He put the pork into the oven when he deemed it ready, wincing at the heat the hot coals generated. Then he set about making the desert. Neji had found some marginally shrivelled apples in the cellar, and set about coring and peeling them for apple pie. The pastry took little time to make, and, after he had used an awful amount of sugar, it was ready.

2 hours later, dinner was steaming on the wooden worktop, and Neji was just making the custard for later. He set it on the stove to stay warm just as Gaara came into the room, drawn, no doubt, by the smell.

"I asked you to make dinner, not a feast," he said, looking amused. Neji could understand why. Logically, Gaara would be the only one eating all of this. It seemed a shame that it should go to waste.

"I'll re-use the meat you don't eat for dinner tomorrow," Neji said, guessing that he would be preparing meals now that he had displayed his excellent culinary skills.

"Even if you do, there'll still be way too much," Gaara muttered, "And I'm not eating pork for the rest of the week,"

He looked at Neji with an indecipherable gaze.

"You and Uchiha Sasuke will also eat dinner with me," he announced. Neji could only blink as Gaara ambled off to, he assumed, collect his friend.

When Sasuke entered the room, Neji noticed that he didn't look at all neglected. In fact, he looked positively happy. Naruto the Candlestick had come with him, hopping along with Sasuke's long strides. It made Neji feel supremely jealous and betrayed to see Sasuke so seemingly content and well, while Neji had been thoroughly mistreated for the past few days since they had arrived. Hadn't Sasuke once worried about him? Hadn't he once tried to help his best friend?

"Neji?" Sasuke said, stopping in his tracks as he recognised Neji. Neji gave no indication that he had heard Sasuke. If Sasuke was unable to recognise him because he was simply a little dirty, then, clearly, they weren't as close as Neji had thought.

"If we don't eat soon, dinner will get cold," Gaara said grouchily. Neji nodded and began to divide the food into three plates. Naruto could not eat, and merely stood in the middle of the table, lighting it up. Then he brought it over to Sasuke and Gaara, avoiding Sasuke's gaze. He guessed that Sasuke would probably be a little hurt at being ignored, but he didn't care. The betrayal had cut way too deeply.

When he had poured both men glasses of wine and added sweet apple sauce to their plates, he sat down and began to eat slowly. He longed to ram the food into his famished mouth, but, no matter how much his pride had been damaged, it had not yet been broken.

They got through their meal in silence, and Neji then served out the apple pie with the custard. Again, Sasuke received no acknowledgement from Neji, a fact Neji knew would rankle. Nevertheless, he nearly jumped when Sasuke grabbed his wrist.

"What's wrong with you?" Sasuke asked, looking horrified and angry. Neji did not answer.

"What has he done?" Sasuke demanded, his grip tightening minutely.

"May I have my arm back?" Neji said in response, "I would like to finish eating,"

"No!" Sasuke hissed harshly, "Look at you! You look like a slave from Iwa!"

He was right, but his words battered Neji's pride.

"Why do you care?" he asked, before he could stop himself. He could feel Sasuke freeze beside him and continued to eat once he had shook Sasuke's arm off. However, the grip was soon back, grabbing his shoulders and forcing him to face Sasuke.

"How can you say that?" Sasuke said, his bared teeth flashing white.

"You did nothing to help me!" Neji spat angrily, struggling in Sasuke's grip, "From what I can see, you've been treated well. Of course, even knowing that I had been taken away to become a slave _to save your life_, you didn't try to help me!"

He finally wrenched himself from Sasuke's grip and stood.

"I will wash the dishes," he announced, collecting the plates and cutlery and leaving the room. He did not see Sasuke grab Gaara by the front of those expensive robes, growling in anger.

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I've thrown a few curveballs in this chapter (I hope). And I will continue to throw them. I can assure you that you'll be given a major surprise at the end.

Ja, ne all! REVIEW!

TenshiXXX


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:

Itachi had never has sex with a man before. As a teenager, he had been too preoccupied with living up to his father's ridiculous expectations and keeping Sasuke's childhood sweet. When his father had died, his mother had been overcome by grief, wasting away until he was a sunken-eyed husk. Itachi became the patriarch of the family at the age of 16 while his mother slipped into obscurity. Uchiha Mikoto now lived in a small cottage on the coast, and left the running of the family company to Itachi.

Even a romantic relationship had been entirely out of the question for the majority of Itachi's life. He wondered whether it could be counted as an achievement that he was still a virgin at 24, or an extreme failure. It did not matter, of course. He was going to sleep with this wild mercenary tonight, in exchange for his help. It was a price he was willing to pay.

Or, at least, that was what he told himself as Kisame slammed him against the door roughly, sharp teeth nipping his neck. An involuntary noise escaped his bitten lips, somewhere between a hitch and a gasp. Kisame chuckled, his voice husky, and gripped Itachi's arms with brutal fingers. Itachi knew he would hurt tomorrow, but he didn't care.

His hair was down. Kisame had pulled out the ribbon that kept it neatly in place sometime during his assault, and now carded the fingers of one coarse hand through it. It tugged and hurt a little when Kisame encountered knots, but it was nowhere near agonising, and Kisame's ministrations on other parts of his body felt so glorious that the pain in his head seemed insignificant.

"I haven't had someone anywhere near as hot as you for a while," Kisame told him, drawing back slightly. Itachi's chest heaved, and he belatedly realised that his arms were linked around Kisame's neck.

"I can assure you, I'm flattered," Itachi gasped out, sounding winded. Maybe he was. Kisame had been awfully rough with him. Did he not know that Itachi never did this sort of thing? It was unlikely that he did, and Itachi wasn't going to tell him. He didn't want to be treated with kid-gloves.

"Of course you are," Kisame said with a predatory grin. Then, Itachi's clothes lay around his feet in a puddle of silk. In a single motion, Kisame had cut the clothes away from Itachi's body like he was gutting a fish. Itachi shivered. It was cold.

But Kisame was warm, and Itachi pressed himself closer to Kisame's body. Kisame was still wearing his warm travelling cloak, while Itachi was nearly nude, wearing only his sturdy boots and his underclothes.

"Are you ready?" Kisame asked. Itachi wanted to tell him that he wasn't ready to have sex with a man he barely knew in a dingy room (one that didn't even have a bed) above a pub like a cheap whore. But he didn't make a sound. Instead, he removed Kisame's cloak from the man's shoulders and laid it out on the ground before lowering himself onto it.

Kisame followed. His body draped over Itachi's, bringing instant warmth. Itachi pulled him closer, fingers digging into the broad expanse of back beneath his rigid touch. He readied himself for a kiss, but instead grunted as Kisame lowered his mouth to Itachi's chest and sucked and nibbled while rough hands firmly rubbed Itachi's sides. His stomach tightened in pleasure. His legs fell open, although he didn't realise this until Kisame's crotch made contact with his own.

The resultant hiss that escaped his mouth made him sound like an angry cat. Kisame's teeth nibbled his jaw line as fingers expertly found a nipple and pinched sharply before rolling it in a soothing motion. Itachi couldn't help it- he whimpered past his clenched teeth and bitten lips.

"That's more like it," Kisame said quietly, the vibrations of his deep voice rumbling through Itachi's chest. Itachi didn't deign to answer. He simply closed his eyes as he felt Kisame pull his underwear off roughly, baring what little skin remained unexplored.

There was the gentlest of touches to the supple skin of his cock, causing him to draw breath sharply. The familiar feeling of needy arousal engulfed him. His groin felt heavy and all too sensitive, like a fresh paper-cut, but the discomfort felt _good_. Itachi found himself tilting his hips towards Kisame's taunting finger tips and quickly stopped the action. He wasn't going to make more of a fool out of himself than he had to.

Itachi shivered with relief when Kisame finished tormenting him, wrapping a firm hand around Itachi's cock and slowly beginning to stroke. Almost thrashing with pleasure, Itachi forced himself to keep all noises in check and dug his fingers into the floor boards on either side of the cloak he lay upon. He knew that he would have to remove at least one splinter from his hand, but he didn't care. What was one splinter compared to the indignity of his current position? He may have liked and respected Kisame, but he certainly didn't want them to end up here. He thought it unlikely that they would ever become friends now that this had developed into a business transaction.

The injustice of his situation was driven from his mind at the first cool sticky-smooth touch to his entrance.

"It would be better if you were on your knees," Kisame told him, sedately circling Itachi's hole with a lubed-up digit. Itachi didn't want to have sex on all fours, like an animal, but he offered no protest. Kisame had begun what Itachi had asked of him already, and now he was collecting his payment. Itachi would have to deliver, would have to satisfy Kisame, if he wanted his plan to succeed.

It was with a heavy heart that he turned over and placed his hands on the floor on either side of his head to hold his upper body up as he kneeled like a bitch about to be mounted by a male dog. In this position, the discomfort the thick finger inside him caused was greater, and the degradation Itachi felt increased too. He didn't know how people did this all the time. It seemed incredibly undignifed. He hoped Kisame was going to make this worth his while.

"Have you done this before?" Kisame asked suddenly, sounding suspicious, "You don't feel like you have to me,"

Itachi inwardly snorted. Did a virgin feel different from a person who had previously had sex? Itachi didn't know. He dealt with neurosurgery, at the opposite end of the spectrum. It would be a cold day in Hell before he even thought about touching another person's anus.

"Does it matter?" he asked calmly, although the way he shifted had probably given away how testy he was.

"If you want to be able to walk tomorrow, yes," Kisame answered.

"Just do it," Itachi said evenly.

Something shorter and thicker than a finger- _a thumb, perhaps?-_ was pressed inside him slowly. The stretch really was quite pleasurable. Itachi's entire body was suffused with a flush of colour. Then the thumb curled and wriggled slightly, the short nail scraping in a not entirely unpleasant way.

"Hmm, very nice," Kisame said, his deep voice sounding terribly loud in a room that was silent but for the occasional grunts and Itachi's increased breathing rate. Itachi was about to reply scathingly, when he felt a sharp pain, first in his right buttock, and then in his left. Itachi ground his face into the rough cloak, trying to keep all noise at bay. While he wasn't too keen on walking around with two angry-red bite marks on his ass, the act itself was disgustingly arousing. The fact that Kisame would put his mouth in such a place was simultaneously dirty and heavenly, and it made Itachi desire things he had never before desired or even thought about.

"Tastes nice too," Kisame said, adding further fuel to Itachi's fire. Was he supposed to be enjoying this so much?

With both hands, Kisame parted his cheeks, that thick thumb still firmly entrenched within Itachi's hole. Itachi breathed in sharply through his nose, his face going slack with shock. Turning his head to the side, he looked back at Kisame.

"What are you doing?" he asked, wanting to clench his buttocks but knowing that the act would cause the sight to become even more lewd than what it already was.

The thumb was pulled free, and was replaced by something slick, flexible and a little rough, resulting in Itachi's face flaming.

"Please tell me you're not-," Itachi began, stopping mid-sentence as a shiver of desire passed over him. Kisame's laugh was answer enough, his hot breath puffing onto Itachi's hole.

"Oooh...," Itachi said, unable to stop himself as Kisame's wet wet tongue slid into him like a knife through butter and caressed him from the inside. Itachi thought that Kisame seemed to like that response, as he grunted like an animal in heat in response and began to plunge his tongue in and out and in and out to a choppy rhythm that had Itachi's toes curling in his boots.

"Do you like that?" Kisame asked with a deep chuckle, his tongue having slid free from Itachi's body with a wet sound. Itachi could feel saliva cooling in his crack and on his testicles, where it had dripped down in Kisame's frenzied attack.

"I said, do you like that?" Kisame asked again, sounding self-satisfied. Clearly, he knew the answer, so Itachi wasn't going to give him one.

"No answer?"Kisame questioned rhetorically, "I know I'm good, but...,"

He stretched Itachi's hole with two thick, coarse fingertips, and what little air that was left in Itachi's lungs escaped him on the heels of a muffled noise of dirty pleasure-pain.

"...I'm not that good, am I?" Kisame finished. Itachi could almost taste his satisfaction, like a particularly pungent scent. He gnawed the cloth in his mouth to prevent anymore reactions. Kisame had told him that he was very domineering with his partners and subscribed to the philosophy "the kinkier, the better", but, for some reason, Itachi hadn't expected something like this.

"Are you still in there, or have I overloaded you already?" Kisame asked, rapping his head softly in an uncharacteristic and bizarre spur-of-the-moment instant of playfulness. Itachi's pride roared in response, although Itachi's outward reply was much more composed.

"Do what you want," he said, glaring over his shoulder, "I won't complain, and I won't break like any of the weak people you have had in the past,"

"I'll hold you to that," Kisame said, making it sound like a warning rather than a promise. Itachi could see why. Several fingers were roughly jammed inside him, until he felt violated. It was almost funny that he hadn't felt violated until this point.

And then there was the pain- the burning stretch that was the price for engaging in this kind of activity. Itachi solemnly swore that this would not be happening again. He then realised that he had promised Kisame another session, and marvelled at his own unusual display of stupidity and lack of foresight. An oily liquid was sloppily drizzled onto his backside, and Kisame was suddenly able to move his fingers without making Itachi grimace. Itachi didn't wonder what it was, because he didn't know if he would like the conclusions he would come to.

"So pretty," Kisame sniggered. Itachi, unable to resist, kicked out, catching Kisame on the left thigh.

"Shit!" Kisame swore, "I was joking!"

"If you say that again, I'll kick you again," Itachi vowed darkly, "But, this time, I won't be aiming for your leg,"

"If you aim there, you're aiming for my _third_ leg," Kisame said. Even Itachi was unable to stop his lips from twitching slightly at that tastelessly bawdy yet oddly amusing remark.

"You're foul," Itachi said shortly, surprised by the suddenly less serious atmosphere. However, the brief reprieve did not last long, and it was over in a flash of pain as Kisame buried himself in Itachi's body with one great pistoning thrust, while, at the same time, sinking his teeth into Itachi's back. Itachi's eyes watered.

"It's always better to get it over with," Kisame gasped, tongue easing the residual throbbing of the clean bite mark he had cleaved into Itachi's skin, "It shouldn't do much damage,"

Itachi didn't respond. He was too busy worrying that he would have to wear a diaper for the rest of his life as a result of Kisame's less than gentle entry.

"In my defence," Kisame continued, his fingers digging in to Itachi's hips painfully, "I did ask if you were a virgin, and you didn't answer,"

"Don't use that word," Itachi said, having begun to get over the sudden dull pain and lingering soreness, "It makes you sound like you are talking to a woman. And I am definitely no woman,"

"I can see that," Kisame countered, his large blue hand leaving Itachi's hip and grasping his cock in a grip that was agonisingly good. Now raised up onto his hands and knees, Itachi had no cloak to press his face against, and instead pressed his mouth against his own arm to minimise the noise. His shudder was enough of a reaction for Kisame to understand anyway.

"I'd normally tell you to make all the noise you want, but we wouldn't want anyone coming to investigate-," Kisame gave a short thrust that rubbed Itachi's insides the _right_ way, "-would we?"

Itachi's muteness spurred Kisame on. He reached forwards and pushed Itachi's hair out of his eyes, his fingers trailing down Itachi's jaw until his hand was settled on Itachi's mouth. His hand smelled musky, but Itachi didn't mind, because it was then that Kisame decided he should hammer into Itachi with the force of an enraged rhino.

At first, the pain was blinding and the sensation disorientating. But, Itachi was soon moaning against Kisame's hand, his voice tremoring to the rhythm of Kisame's thrusts. Itachi hazily thought that it was, frankly, astounding that Kisame could cause such a reaction just by slamming into him like a possessed demon. Although it still hurt slightly at every inward push, his body didn't dislike the pain. Itachi suspected that endorphins were the culprit, soothing to such an extent that Itachi was able to receive a great amount of pleasure from the act.

His cock bobbed, throbbing and neglected, and he longed to touch himself to give himself some relief, but he didn't like the thought of doing something like that in front of Kisame- even if Kisame was currently abusing his slick hole from behind. It seemed shameful, which was stupid, as his rational mind told him.

His fingers twitched against the cloak, his knuckles red and his nails encircled by dried blood from his earlier actions. Slowly, they began their journey towards his body, shaking from Kisame's ceaseless pistoning action. They were half way when they stopped, nails sinking into Itachi's own thigh as Kisame struck his prostate with the precision of a sniper bullet and the force of a ballistic meteor. He couldn't stop himself; he fell forwards, his cheek hitting the floor even as a shout of surprised delight exploded out of him before he even knew what was happening. In fact, he was unable to prevent himself from shouting the next time, and the next, and the next, and then he stopped trying all together. Kisame seemed to like that.

"Yes," he hissed in Itachi's ear, heaving like a bull, his forehead glistening with sweat from the furious, no-holds barred punishment he was dishing out , "Scream louder,"

He punctured his request- no, his _order_- with a swivelling motion combined with an shove. And Itachi did- he screamed until his throat was sore, saliva sliding between Kisame's fingers, back arching painfully, scratching at the cloak and his thigh, eyes rolling like he was having a seizure...and then Kisame slowed down.

"Shit," he panted, "I know I said louder but...shit, people are going to think I'm murdering you!"

Itachi whined into Kisame's hand, hating the fact that he was letting go so easily, but loving the emotional release. He was never able to scream and rage like his brother did- if he did, how could he stop Sasuke when things got out of hand? And, should Uchiha Itachi show the slightest hint of distress, he would be given strange looks and asked if he was alright to continue with whatever he was doing. Kisame, though...Kisame would not judge him. In fact, he seemed to like it when Itachi was loud (when he wasn't worried about causing a scene and being discovered, that is). So Itachi let it all out. He could always kick Kisame again if he said anything after the event.

He pressed his backside against Kisame crotch, feeling their balls touch together, even as his round buttocks fit snugly against Kisame's hips like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Kisame bit the same spot on his back again and grabbed his hip, yanking him closer as he thrust forwards powerfully. Itachi wondered why his vision had narrowed, black spots dancing across his gaze, but then he realised that he was coming all over his own stomach and chest and even onto his enraptured face. His arms hung limply at his sides as Kisame continued, body trembling with aftershocks and the new abuse Kisame was subjecting his sensitive body to. Despite this, Kisame was able to make Itachi hard again, and Itachi was propelled forwards even as his eyes remained at half-mast, gasping and groaning because he couldn't bring himself to scream past his raw throat.

Kisame came first this time. The only indications that he had reached his peak were his erratic thrusts and a grunt of Itachi's own name. Itachi's head dropped, his teeth biting into the cloak, even as his hand snuck up his body to finish him off. He didn't realise Kisame was pulling out for a moment, continuing to slump against the floor, face down and his backside exposed. The warm trickle dripping over his balls alerted him. That, and the way Kisame's breath hitched, his finger pushing into Itachi's sore hole, playing with the cum and letting it drip out slowly. Itachi hissed and pushed his hand away before turning over onto his back.

He knew he must have looked a mess- a universe from his usual, impeccable appearance and unflappable composure. Yet Kisame was looking at him like a hungry lion might look at a young antelope.

Itachi found that he liked it. At the same time, he was worried. What if Kisame's admiration was sexually motivated, and had nothing to do with Itachi himself?

Itachi reminded himself that this was an exchange of services- a business transaction of sorts.

It didn't stop him from wanting, though.

Maybe he was being overly sentimental because Kisame was his first, and people were normally incredibly attached to the first person they ever slept with. Or maybe he was attracted to Kisame's unique personality and bizarre looks. Whatever it was, Itachi was certain that he would soon he in for a world of emotional hurt. He let out a long breath, legs sliding from their bent position until they were lying flat.

Kisame's eyes became alert again and he grinned, flashing sharp teeth. Itachi's lips turned up slightly.

"Are you...alright?" Kisame asked, almost as though he didn't quite know what to say. It was official; Itachi looked a frightful state. He nodded, trying not to wince as his throat throbbed.

"I've ruined your clothes," Kisame said, nodding at the pile of silk that had been kicked into the corner at some point. He regarded Itachi speculatively for a moment, and then picked either side of the cloak up and wrapped it round Itachi's body as though he was swaddling an infant. Itachi, still pleasantly buzzed due to hormones, didn't react, happy to absorb Kisame's warmth through the cloak and think about where he hurt.

The answer was, unsurprisingly, everywhere.

"Your place or mine?" Kisame asked.

"My key is in my clothes," Itachi croaked, overlooking Kisame's self-satisfied grin. Kisame placed him gently on the floor and went to get the key. By the time he returned, Itachi was asleep.

* * *

Neji didn't know why Gaara has suddenly decided to lock him in a bedroom, and nor did he care. What he really wanted at the present moment was a way out of that room so that he didn't go insane. He had tried all of the tricks he knew on the door, many of them illegal, but it refused to budge. Not only that, but the handles themselves were rather uncooperative, and shouted at him for grabbing and twisting their noses (or, rather, the knobs).

He settled down on the bed with a sigh...

"Oi!"

...And promptly fell off the bed in shock as a voice shouted impatiently. He looked around wildly, but the only thing in the room was the furniture.

"Up here, idiot," spoke the brusque female voice again.

Neji looked at the armoire, which was twice as tall as him, and discovered that the armoire was looking back at him.

"You're the first person I've seen for years," she said, "What's Gaara doing, locking you in here?"

"I haven't any idea," Neji said, running his hand through his hair agitatedly.

"Well, he must have a reason," she said, "He always does. His reasons can be twisted, but they're still reasons,"

"Maybe he wants me to die from starvation," Neji said darkly.

"Nope," she said, emphasising the p, "He wouldn't lock you in here for that. He would have kept you in the dungeon. Or he'd make you work yourself to death. That's more of his style,"

"How do you know that?" Neji asked, curious in spite of himself. She rolled her eyes.

"I'm his sister," she said, "Or, I was. I don't know what I am now,"

"An armoire?" Neji ventured. The armoire glared at him.

"Am I glad he's locked a comedian in here with me!" she said sarcastically.

"I'm sorry," Neji said sincerely.

"Yeah, whatever," she snorted. Then, her wooden face brightened with comprehension.

"You know," she said slowly, "There could be a reason he locked you in here specifically,"

"No doubt that reason is one I won't like," Neji sighed.

"Open my doors," the wardrobe ordered. Bemused, Neji did as he was asked. Hanging down from the metal rail was row upon row of doublets and hose in every colour Neji could think of- crimson, gold, cream, mint, black, purple, silver...

The top shelf was filled with gem-studded hats made from silk, wool, velvet and taffeta, and, nearby, were an array of codpieces that were so obscenely large and flashy that Neji flushed a little. There were mantles of thick fur, pale woollen undershirts, scarlet gowns with hanging sleeves, silver-gold jerkins without sleeves, fur-lined gowns, a collection of rounded shoes made from velvet, silk and buckskin, and many other items of clothing that even Neji, being a tailor's nephew and a training tailor himself, could could not recognise.

"Pick some clothes," the armoire said, waving her doors to emphasise and nearly knocking Neji to the ground in the process. Neji snapped out of his awed stupor and stared at her.

"I'm sure that Gaara didn't plan on me wearing his clothes," he argued.

"Don't be stupid," the armoire snorted, rolling her eyes, "These aren't his clothes. They're too small,"

"Then to whom do they belong?" Neji asked curiously, unable to stop himself from stroking a magnificent fur-lined burgandy gown.

"I don't know," the armoire shrugged, "But they've been there since I was cursed, so they probably don't belong to anyone. So feel free to wear whatever you like,"

"Why would Gaara put me here just so that I could wear clothes that look as though they belong to the King of England himself?" Neji asked, frowning.

"I don't know," she said, "But, out of all the rooms he could have locked you in, he locked you in here. This room is so far away from the rooms he normally uses, so it seems kind of odd that he would take you to the other side of his castle for no reason. So I guess he wanted you to meet me, and knew that I could pass up the opportunity to dress up a pretty boy,"

Neji frowed. He supposed that she was right. Afterall, it had taken 10 minutes for Gaara to carry him here, and it seemed entirely illogical that Gaara would go to all of that trouble for no reason. Making his decision, he regarded the beautiful clothes.

Reluctant and eager in equal measure, Neji tried to decide what outfit he would suit the most. He knew Sasuke normally wore darker colours, such as reds and blacks, but Neji felt that he would look like he belonged in a morgue if he combined such dark colours with his pale skin. However, he really liked that burgandy robe. He chewed the inside of his cheek with indecision for a moment, and then chose his clothing, hoping that he wouldn't look stupid.

A while later, he had stuggled into an array of clothing that he was sure made him look at least one hundred times richer than he actually was. The undershirt had been the easiest to put on, but the hose took a little more time to figure out. Temari looked away while he changed, which he was glad about. It wasn't a case of embarrassment over her seeing him naked, but, rather, it was a case of how stupid he probably looked as he tried to put on clothes that were worth more than his house. He had less trouble with the cream and gold doublet and jerkin that he had anticipated, although the amount of padding and the way the high collar dug into his chin when he looked down was a little uncomfortable. When he slipped on the burgandy gown, any residual cold left him immediately, and he suddenly saw the practicality behind these elaborate garments, even if they were predominately made for aesthetic purposes.

"Don't forget the hat!" the armoire said, her wooden face grinning. Neji paused in the act of slipping on some soft buckskin shoes and picked up a velvet hat, from which hung a large plume.

"Perfect," the armoire smirked. Neji sighed and looked down at himself. He did not suit such finery.

"Are you done yet?" Gaara asked through the door. Neji bit his tongue to keep himself from forming a barbed retort.

"Yes," he ground out, still angry at Gaara for everything he had done.

The door was unlocked and Gaara came in, a grin lighting up his mad eyes as he stared at Neji.

* * *

I know, I know. I suck at updating. But I hope I've made it up to you by writing such a long chapter. I also hope that the description of Neji's clothing wasn't too complicated. The clothes he wears in this chapter haven't been in fashion for centuries, so I'd understand if you don't get understand what the hell I'm talking about. I've included a link to the source of Neji's outfit:

http : / / upload . wikimedia . org / wikipedia / commons / 4 / 4f / Edward _ VI _ of _ England _ c. _ 1546 . jpg

I would make a disclaimer, stating that these clothes belong to Edward VI of England, but, as he's currently entombed in the floor of The Collegiate Church of St Peter at Westminster (Known as Westminster Abbey by normal people), and has been since 8th August, 1553, I doubt he cares overly much.

Please review. It would make me very happy :D


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